Sheppard's Shame
by Saharasia
Summary: John continues with his recovery. Is he making progress? Where's the crew and what do they think?
1. The Arrival

**Disclaimer: I don't own any SG-Atlantis characters and do this strictly for R and R. No profits involved!**

**Author's Note: Hello everyone. This is my first fan fiction ever. I have been reading fan fiction, particularly sci-fi, for five years and am just now getting the courage up to write something of my own. I am in love with SG-Atlantis. Weir and Sheppard are my two favorite characters. I'm best at writing about relationships (all types) so you might not see too much action type stuff from me if I decide to continue. This is all in good fun. I have no aspirations to be a great writer. Here is Ch. 1 with more on the way soon. What I thought was going to be a quick three chapter story turned into a ten chapter monster. Please review. I can use all the help I can get. Enjoy!**

**Sheppard's Shame**

**by ****Saharasia**

**Chapter 1: The Arrival**

All was not well on the City of Atlantis. Major John Sheppard and Teyla Emmagan were overdue from a routine mission and had not reported to the base in over forty-eight hours. Dr. Elizabeth Weir had gotten very little sleep within that time, passing the moments standing like a sentinel in the control room, willing the Stargate to activate and seeing her two lost team members come strolling through.

Dr. Weir smiled to herself as she remembered back to her teenage years when she would wait by the phone for hours until she gave up on the cute football player, or whomever her crush was on that week, to call her. Its not that she wasn't attractive, just smart and she had a knack for sniffing out the B.S. A trait she would come to rely on throughout her political career. As if on cue, the Stargate suddenly engaged pulling Dr. Weir out of her musings bringing her to instant alertness.

She turned to her technician. Not needing to be asked he immediately reported, "Its Teyla's code."

"Open the iris and get Dr. Beckett up here with a med team," Weir ordered. She had a bad feeling about this. Her intuition was screaming at her, the hair on the back of her head standing up. This was not going to be good. Something was definitely wrong.

Suddenly, two weary figures appeared from behind the liquid blue pool of light. One of the figures was leaning heavily on the other who was barely standing erect herself.

Weir went immediately into action, not wasting a second and was down the stairs and into the jumper bay in a flash. Teyla, who was supporting a half-conscious Major Sheppard, was gingerly lowering him to the floor ending up in a heap with the major panting heavily next to her.

Dr. Weir's worst fear had just been confirmed. She reached Teyla's side and helped her lower Major Sheppard the rest of the way to the floor. She knelt in front of the Athosian woman as the Major curled up into a fetal position. Dr. Weir noticed for the first time that the Major was half-naked for the most part, bloodied, and bruised.

"Teyla? Can you tell me what happened? Are you alright?" she asked in the bravest tone she could muster.

"I am fine, Dr. Weir," Teyla lied ignoring her own injuries. "Major Sheppard is in more need of assistance than I."

"What did they do to you?" Weir pressed.

"We were tortured by the Xenatites. Major Sheppard received the worst of it. They did not take the news of the awakening of the Wraith very well," Teyla stammered out. She had a look of shock on her face Dr. Weir had never seen on her before. She placed her left hand on the side of Teyla's face in an effort to simultaneously comfort the young woman and check on what looked like a head wound.

A soft moan brought the two women out of the moment and they turned their attention back to the Major. Dr. Beckett and his team had finally arrived, clambering in with their equipment, going into action attending to Teyla and the Major. Dr. Weir stood up and hung back a little allowing the med team to do their jobs.

Dr. Beckett took in the situation in just a few seconds. He didn't like how the Major was looking. He could tell by the time he crouched down to further examine him that he had been badly beaten and had some broken ribs. The Doctor hoped to hell that the Major hadn't suffered any internal bleeding since that would complicate things a bit.

Dr. Beckett leaned in close to the Major to call his name and received no reply. The Major was barely conscious, trembling, and his half-opened eyes were glazed over and vacant.

"Can I get a blanket over here?" he called to one of his team.

A medic rushed over and helped the Doctor spread a blanket over the Major's shivering, pale body. Upon further inspection of the Major's injuries, he discovered cuts, bruises, and a concussion. Taking his stethoscope, he listened to the Major's heart and lungs. He didn't like what he heard, wincing with his effort. Quickly checking for broken bones, he found several broken ribs and a possible fractured cheek bone. They would need to stabilize him and get him to the infirmary, stat, before proceeding.

Near by, another medic was assisting Teyla. She had a few bruises and cuts here and there but was for the most part, intact. The kindly medic helped her up and walked her over to the infirmary protesting the entire that she preferred to remain behind with Major Sheppard.

In the meantime, Dr. Weir had been doing her own visual assessment of Major Sheppard's condition. His hair was matted with blood, his pale skin had a grayish tint to it, his left eye was blackened, and his lower lip was split. His breathing was coming in low, shallow gasps. He had scared the hell out of her once before in the puddle jumper when he had to be revived after the incident with the bug. But this, this was scaring her in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Dr. Weir put a hand over her mouth as she watched Dr. Beckett and his team gently place the Major on a gurney. She almost couldn't stand it when Major Sheppard let out a small painful cry as they moved him despite their best efforts to be careful of his injuries. She wanted to so badly to cry, scream out in anger, lose her cool, but she had to remain strong in front of her crew. Ever the diplomat.

Before the Major was whisked away, she came forward to get the good Doctor's assessment. "How is he?" she quietly asked.

"It's too early to tell, Elizabeth. We'll have to wait and see. He'll pull through but it may take awhile before he's fully recovered if you get my drift," the Scot reported.

"Take good care of him, Doctor. I want a progress report as soon as you have it on both he and Teyla. I would like to see them when they are able to have visitors."

Dr. Beckett and his team quickly exited with the Major in tow. They had inserted an IV drip, placed hit head and neck in a brace, and were administering oxygen, finally stabilizing him enough to move him.

Dr. Weir thought she saw the major glance in her direction for a brief, lucid moment. His eyes, usually full of mirth, mischief, and cheer, were now vacant and full of pain. "I'll be in my office," was all she could manage to eek out as she walked away from the bay and the floor stained with Major Sheppard's blood.


	2. The Exam

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Stargate Atlantis characters. This is purely for R and R. No profits are made!**

**WARNING: This story contains mature violent themes such as torture. Please be advised that material may not be suitable for all audiences. **

**A/N: Wow...I actually have a couple of reviews and I just posted last night. Thanks to my reviewers. I appreciate your comments. Hang on, its going to be a bumpy ride for poor Shep. If you are at all squeamish about torture please stop reading now. However, if you enjoy hurt and comfort continue on. Please be warned that there are violent adult themes in this story but I think I have hinted and handled them in a dignified manner.**

**Chapter 2: The Exam**

Major Sheppard was vaguely aware of his surroundings. He could detect a familiar smell like a hospital_. "Oh, God,"_ he thought. _"What are they going to do to me, now?"_

He heard a voice calling his name. Could it be? Was it? It was Dr. Beckett's voice. He'd recognize that accent anywhere. Maybe things weren't so bad, after all.

"Major Sheppard? John? Can you hear me," the Doctor gently probed?

The Major glanced in the Doctor's direction. That was good enough for him and sighed in relief seeing that the Major was somewhat coherent.

"John, I have to do a thorough exam on you. This will be uncomfortable since I can't give you anything for the pain until I know what's going on with you," he explained seriously.

Upon further inspection, the Doctor found some broken ribs on the Majors left side, a slight concussion, and as he suspected possible internal bleeding since the Major had blood in his mouth. He hissed and groaned in pain throughout the examination.

In addition, the Doctor found some rather nasty cuts and bruises on his back and shoulders along with some burn marks that looked like they might have been inflicted with some type of electrical prod device.

There was one area of the Majors body that was particularly distressing and unsettling to the good Doctor. John's olive green government issue DVD's were caked with blood in a rather sensitive area.

In as reassuring a voice as possible, Doctor Beckett gave John some unpleasant news. "I'm going to have to perform a rectal exam. It's going to be very uncomfortable for the both of us," he said as he put on a fresh pair of examining gloves.

The Major's breathing had become faster and more labored. He would have been in full panic mode had it not been for his weakened condition. Dr. Beckett, with the aid of a tech, gently rolled the Major onto his right side. Dr. Beckett moved as swiftly and deftly as he could without sacrificing thoroughness. He felt John thrashing and quivering. The Major was not too thrilled about reliving one of his worst nightmares.

"No," followed by a much longer, "nooooo" was mumbled by John weakly as the Doctor continued with the exam.

The nightmare was finally over. "Okay, John. We're all done," the Doctor reported as he changed gloves once more. He turned his friend around on his back with the help of the tech, quickly covering his bare body with a sheet.

"I'm going to have to check you around your groin area. You have some nasty bruising and I'm concerned about internal bleeding," the Doctor explained.

The Major looked at him with how much worse can this get eyes? He closed his eyes tightly while the Doctor proceeded as if this action would will the unpleasant situation to go away.

"Do you feel any pain or tenderness?" he asked his reluctant patient. The Major shook his head "no" almost imperceptibly.

Satisfied, the Doctor moved up to the Major's lower abdomen. "How about here." As he pressed down on a bruised area, the Major let out a startled grunt as a sore spot was discovered. Great, the Doctor thought to himself. Add internal bleeding to the list.

Dr. Beckett ordered a series of x-rays and blood tests. This was going to be a very long evening. His first task was to decide where to start. The internal bleeding would have to be dealt with right away which meant surgery. Then there was the matter of the rectal tearing and burns he found in that tender area. This was going to be a bit tricky. Lucky for him, he had one hell of a surgical nurse on his team.


	3. Recovery

**Chapter 3: Recovering**

A day-and-a-half-later after hours of grueling surgery, Major Sheppard was still in recovery status. He hadn't awakened, yet, which concerned Dr. Beckett somewhat, but was considered normal under the circumstances.

When he finally did wake up, he was keenly aware of bright light. He gingerly opened his eyes to a stark white landscape.

He slowly became aware of a soft voice calling his name. "Major Sheppard? How do you feel?" He slowly turned his head towards the voice and through slitted eyes, recognized it as belonging to the nurse that had attended him after the bug incident.

The Major paled even more than he already was. "I think I'm going to thr...," and before he could finish his comment, he emptied what little contents still remained in his stomach.

The nurse was ready for him with a bed pan having seen hundreds of recoveries throughout her career and knowing what to expect. "That's quite normal and to be expected, Major. It's brought on by the anesthesia," she explained as she wiped the Major's mouth and helped him get situated.

"Anasthesia?" the Major inquired. Hadn't he dated someone by that name?

"Yes. You had surgery. I'll get Dr. Beckett and let him explain," she replied in a friendly, melodic tone.

Major Sheppard racked his brain, but he couldn't remember much of what may have brought him to the infirmary. All of a sudden, the pain came crashing back like an ocean wave enveloping him completely from head to toe. Oh, God. He felt nauseous, again but managed to keep the heaves at bay.

A few seconds later, Dr. Beckett was by his side. "Are you in pain, Major?" he questioned seeing him thrashing about, moaning and hissing in pain. He assumed the obvious.

"Let me show you something, John." Dr. Beckett carefully took the Major's right hand and led it up an IV tube to a lever.

"I have you hooked up to a drip that releases pain medication every two hours. All you have to do when you feel the pain getting unbearable is to squeeze this lever and a predetermined dosage will be released."

The Major weakly nodded his head in understanding and looked at the Doctor with thankful eyes.

"Now its going to take a wee bit of time to work so I'm going to ask you to be patient," the Doctor good naturedly admonished. "We had to do surgery for internal bleeding and injuries," he explained more seriously. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

The Major took a few seconds to try to recall the previous events but drew a complete blank. He shook his head "no." "I can't remember anything right now," he croaked out realizing for the first time how dry his mouth felt.

"That's fine. We'll worry about it later. Right now, you will be needing your rest. I'll be by to check on you later." With that, the Doctor turned on his heels after a quick once over of the Major to make sure all of the monitors and IV's were still hooked up and operating to his satisfaction.

The pain was slowly subsiding, however; the Major couldn't understand why he felt so sore still not remembering his last mission. He finally drifted back to a restless, drug induced sleep.


	4. Terror in His Sleep

**Chapter 4: Terror in His Sleep**

_They were doing unspeakable things to him. It started out simple enough. Name, rank, serial number. That sort of thing. He could hear screams coming from the chamber next to his. That was more torturous than the thrashing he was receiving from the Xenatite but there was nothing he could do to help Teyla at this point._

_It was a long time before he finally cried out. Long past the bruises and open, bleeding wounds. Calculating math problems in his mind kept him occupied and distracted long enough to ignore the pain. He started with something simple like the tewlve timetables and progressed up to the hundreds. It was getting harder to do as the torture methods got harsher._

_"Where is this Atlantis you came from?" a harsh, gravely voice questioned._

_"The hypotenuse to the square..." He had progressed to geometry._

_Crunch. Another broken rib. A stifled cry. He'd sure like to see Rodney hold out this long. He'd be squealing like a pig by now._

_He did finally reach his breaking point when fists were replaced with gadgets. Electrified devices not unlike cattle prods back on earth._

_'I'm in for it now,' Major Sheppard thought to himself. He became aware of hearing no more screams from the next room. They must have decided to concentrate all of their efforts on him since there now seemed to be more people in the room making it feel crowded. He was getting slightly claustrophobic._

_He was stripped of what few clothes still remained on his body barely leaving him left with what little dignity he still had. The manacles holding up his arms were severely cutting into wrists as he was now having a hard time holding his own weight as he weakened from his injuries._

_"You should have never come here. You will pay for releasing the Wraith on my people."_

_At this point, the Major didn't feel like arguing with the man since he was being prodded with the electrical device and it burned like hell, especially over the already open wounds._

_"Alright. It was all our fault. Now please stop doing that."_

_This angered the leader even more. Things got intense really quickly. The Major surprised himself with the painful screams he was emitting._

_After what seemed an eternity, the beating suddenly stopped. The silence was deafening. There was quiet debilitating on what to do next. An order was given. Two men stepped forward and proceeded to remove the shackles. He would have felt relief had he been able to feel his arms._

_He was strong-armed face first onto the floor. 'Oh, this was so not going to be good.' The little bit of dignity that remained on his body was stripped off. His legs were roughly spread apart and the last thing he remembered before hearing his own voice scream in sheer terror and agony was the cracking of the electronic prod._

* * *

****

Doctor Beckett was aroused from his paperwork and morning coffee by shouting. Loud, guttural, mournful, and the most agonizing he had ever heard in his life. He knew who it was coming from and he winced with every mournful wail. It was becoming considerably harder to treat the people he had come to know as his friends. The closer he got to the people on Atlantis, the harder it was to keep his professional distance.

He was by Major Sheppard's side in a matter of seconds along with the recovery nurse. The nurse had actually gotten there right before the Doctor and was trying to hold the Major down by the shoulders who was wild-eyed and fighting with no one in particular.

Dr. Beckett quickly took in the situation. "Nurse, please prepare a sedative. I'll take over holding him down." He pressed the lever on the IV attached to the pain medication figuring that the Major was probably in a great deal of pain. He could at least do that much to alleviate his suffering.

There was no calming Major Sheppard. The Doctor tried soothing words and reason to no avail. The Major just kept repeating 'no' and 'please stop' over and over again in a pleading voice. The nurse returned with the sedative and the Doctor held down one of the Major's arms tightly as she administered the inoculation. The Major started to calm down and relax to the relief of Dr. Beckett and the nurse.

Major Sheppard's outburst was reduced down to mere shaking uncontrollably and panting in short, raspy breaths. The Doctor intuitively placed a hand on the Major's head. Just as he suspected, he was hot with a fever. "I was afraid of that," he said out loud. "You have a fever, John," he said not really expecting John to respond.

Dr. Beckett asked the nurse to take the Major's temperature. The Doctor continued to try getting through to the Major. "You were just having a bad dream, John."

"No...no dream," the Major retorted weakly.

"Did you dream about what happened to you?" the Doctor probed.

John swallowed hard and contemplated for a moment whether or not he should share this revelation with his friend. He finally looked at the Doctor and nodded "yes" then turned his head away in shame.

His feelings of shame were not lost on the Doctor. "Its okay, John. You can talk about it when you're ready. For now, we have to worry about getting that fever down."

The nurse reported the Major's temperature to be 102.6. Dr. Beckett had a lot of work ahead of him but he was in for the long haul. This was his friend and it was all he could do to help him. The first and most difficult step would be giving Elizabeth the news.


	5. The News

**Chapter 5: The News**

Dr. Weir was pacing back and forth in her quarters. It was early in the morning and hadn't slept well having been worried sick about Major Sheppard. The last she had heard from Dr. Beckett was that he had finally awakened and reported not remembering anything about what had happened to him and Teyla. The Doctor had briefed Dr. Weir on the Major's injuries and she was very disturbed by what she had learned.

Her comm hailed making her jump slightly. "Elizabeth? It's Carson."

"Yes, Doctor. Go ahead," she answered as she thumbed the comm pad.

"It's the Major. He's awake. He's remembered everything and it ain't pretty."

"Is he alright?" Dr. Weir asked trying her best to conceal her anxiety.

"He's okay, but I had to sedate him to get him to calm down. Apparently, he had a nightmare which triggered some post-traumatic stress. It was to be expected considering the trauma his body, not to mention his mind, has been through. Now, I'm no psychiatrist, but I know PTSD when I see it. He's also fighting a fever."

"What do you suggest we do?" Dr. Weir inquired.

"I'm not as worried about his fever so much as his mental condition. We'll need to take it slow and easy with him for a few weeks. Without a psychologist available, we're going to have to be his emotional support."

"Agreed, Doctor. May I come see him now?"

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I can't allow any visitors. I'd like for him to rest some more and give him some time to sort through his memories. I prefer not to press him too hard."

"Understood, Doctor. Thank you for your report. Weir out."

Dr. Weir promptly finished getting ready and prepared herself for the start of her day and what a start it already was. She wasn't sure how she was going to go about her duties without worrying about the Major. She had been glad to hear that Teyla was better and had been released from the infirmary the night before. She planned to speak with her later this morning and have her sent home to visit and recover with her people on the mainland over the next two weeks.

She had not been tortured as severely as the Major once the Xenatites discovered they could get more out of Major Sheppard. Teyla was also very concerned about the Major but Dr. Beckett wouldn't let her, or anyone else for that matter, near him. When Dr. McKay had caught wind that the Major and Teyla had been injured during their mission, he hurried over to the infirmary along with Lieutenant Ford but the Doctor would only allow them to see Teyla.

Rodney was his usual annoying self and tried arguing with Carson but the Doctor wouldn't have it. He was not about to give out any information on the Major's condition. This was a private matter and he didn't need any of this getting out to the entire population of Atlantis. This was for the Major and the Major alone to sort out.

Elizabeth was the only other person who knew the full extent of John's situation and she wasn't about to share that privileged knowledge with anyone. After all, she was the only person who just might have an understanding of what the Major was going through.

Yes...her diplomacy and persuasion skills were going to come in handy. For now, she had to remind herself to be patient which would prove to be another crucial and useful skill. She had a lot of work ahead of her and, like the Doctor, was in it for the long haul. The Major had become more than a valued team member. She had come to consider him a friend. The incident with the bug was the first time she realized how much he meant to her. And this...this was different. This scared her even more. When had he become so important to her?


	6. Weir Comes For a Visit

**Chapter 6: Weir Comes for a Visit**

Elizabeth was relieved when she finally heard from Dr. Beckett that she was clear to visit with the Major. How would he react to her she wondered. Would he open up right away or was she going to have to coax what happened out of him. These thoughts swirled around in her consciousness as she walked from her office to the infirmary. What should she say? One thing she knew for sure is that she would have to choose her words very carefully.

Dr. Beckett was waiting for her when she arrived. "Good afternoon, Elizabeth."

"Doctor," she nodded back. "How's the Major."

Dr. Beckett knew what she was referring to and in a low exasperated voice said, "He won't even look at me. I have been having one-sided conversations with him. I'm afraid he's shut up tight. I'm hoping that you can make some headway with him. If anybody can, it would be you."

"Thank you for your reassurance, Doctor. Let's hope your right. So where is he?" She was in business mode.

"Right this way." Doctor Beckett gestured towards the rear of the infirmary and led Elizabeth to the farthest bed. The nurse had just been checking the Major's vitals and was putting his chart away. His temperature was much lower and just above normal since she and the Doctor had worked half the night to get it down to normal.

Elizabeth and the Doctor stopped just short of the bed. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll be in my office.

"Thank you, Doctor," Elizabeth nodded.

The major was propped up on pillows. Dr. Weir noticed that his eyes were closed but was awake as she strode closer to his bed. She didn't miss the number of monitors he was hooked up to and the numerous abrasions and bruises that now looked somewhat healed compared to the last time she saw the Major as she approached his side.

She steeled herself as she called out the Major's name. "John?" No response. John?" she repeated a little firmer. "It's Elizabeth." She opted to use her first name.

What happened next broke her heart. The Major turned his head towards the voice. _Oh no. Not her. Anyone but her._ He bitterly and shamefully thought to himself. He turned his head towards the voice and slowly opened his eyes. Sure enough, it was Dr. Weir. He quickly averted his eyes and fixated on a point on the wall in front of him. He just couldn't face her.

His eyes and the frown on his face had said it all. _Ouch. That hurt_. Dr. Weir thought to herself. Remembering how much physical and emotional pain John must be in, she pressed on more sympathetically. "Dr. Beckett finally gave me the go ahead to come and visit with you."

Getting no response, she tried again. "We've all been worried sick about you. Ford and McKay have been in my office constantly asking about you and bugging Dr. Beckett about coming to see you." She wanted to let him know that his friends and fellow team members were thinking about him.

"Teyla's doing well. I had her sent to the mainland so that she could visit with her people for a couple of weeks." At the mention of Teyla's name, the Major momentarily glanced at Dr. Weir, a look of concern on his face. Elizabeth took note of his behavior. This could prove useful in the future. Teyla and John had become like big brother and little sister. He took her under his wing and upon himself to be her tutor on matters pertaining to Earth and its cultural colloquialisms and nuances. He also respected her as a fellow warrior and was all business when it came to missions.

"Well, Major," she continued in as optimistic a tone as she could muster, "I have to get back for a meeting. I'll be back to see you tomorrow."

As she started to turn to leave, the Major turned to her. He didn't say anything but she wouldn't forget the look on his face. His eyes and knitted eyebrows reminded her of a lost, wounded puppy. He looked like he so badly wanted to say something. Her heart sank.

"What is it, John?" she asked her optimism replaced with concern.

The Major quickly reconsidered and shook his head "no" turning back to concentrate once again on the point on the wall.

"Alright, then. I'll see you tomorrow. Let me know if you need anything." Not wanting to press him too hard too quickly, she promptly left the infirmary. Besides, she wasn't sure how much more she herself could take and wanted to leave before she completely lost it herself.


	7. Onesided Conversations

**A/N: Here's Chapter 7. I hope this holds you over for a few more days while I polish up the ending. Why was ****Ch.**** 6 afraid of ****Ch.**** 7? 'Cause 7, 8, 9. Boo-hiss. I know. That was bad but I just couldn't resist since I have written exactly 9 chapters. Thanks again to all of my reviewers (see notes below). I feel like this chapter's a bit lame but I promise it will get better.**

********Chapter 7: One-sided Conversations 

Elizabeth went straight to her quarters. Once there, she allowed her emotions to overtake her as the shock of seeing John in such terrible shape sank in. She sat on the edge of her bed and, putting her head in her hands, allowed herself the luxury of crying.

She wept for John and the pain his was in. She wept for the cuts, burns, and bruises that dotted his body, for the horrendous act the Xenotites had performed on him.

When did she become so attached to this man? This wondrous, witty, exasperating man. She fondly thought about how he was the only person on the crew who could make her laugh so spontaneously, oftentimes against her will and at the most inappropriate times.

And there he was looking so out of character. The happy, crooked-smiling, wise-cracking, hair always-in-a-mess Major, now a devastated hollow shell of a man. It wasn't fair.

This wasn't just common concern that she would show for any crew member. This was different, special somehow. She was connected to him in some strange way.

Her grief turned to anger. How could they do this to John? Her John? How dare they do this to anyone on her crew, thinking of Teyla's suffering, as well.

She would visit with John tomorrow and the next day and the next; as long as it took to pull him out of this. She would be strong for him as he has been strong for her.

Elizabeth went to visit John the next day just as she had promised. She knew that keeping promises was going to be very important in dealing with the Major's predicament. As before, he didn't acknowledge her presence as she approached his bedside. She soaked up his mood noticing that he was still very withdrawn, sullen, and depressed.

Elizabeth was relieved to see that at least one of the monitors had been taken away and some of the color in the Major's face had returned. She garnered strength from the fact that he seemed to be improving, at least physically.

She made sure to time her visits carefully and coordinated with Dr. Beckett on coming to see him just after he had been administered his pain medication. Elizabeth wanted to make sure he was as comfortable as possible before trying to engage him on an emotional level. Otherwise, he might be too distracted.

Today, she planned to give the Major a report of what was going on around Atlantis. After all, she figured her chief military officer would want to stay abreast of some of the issues that had arisen in his absence. She would keep it light and airy and was determined to wait him out as long as it took.

She pulled up a chair and sat down by the Major's bedside. "Well," Dr. Weir launched, "You won't believe what McKay and Zelenka are up to, lately. They discovered a new piece of Ancient technology or 'thingy' as McKay has affectionately started to call it. They must have taken it apart and reassembled it at least a dozen times trying to figure out what the device did. They ruled out that it was a weapon right away and have decided instead that it was something the Ancients used in their daily routines."

"So there they are in my office theorizing and arguing back and forth about what it does. I heard every explanation imaginable including a blow-dryer, a toothbrush, or something to sort socks with. It was all I could do to keep a straight face." By the end of her story, she had a bright smile as she remembered McKay and Zelenka's antics.

"I wish you would have been there to see it." Elizabeth sobered up and turned serious upon hearing the words coming out of her mouth. Catching herself, she made it a point to brighten her demeanor once again.

"...and as for Ford, he's been trying to name things in your absence. He's gotten this hair-brained idea to build a boat. Apparently, he has this thing for breaded catfish and wants to go out deep sea fishing. Not a bad idea, considering we could use a new source of food. We agreed that if he managed to build a boat, then he could have the privilege of naming it."

Elizabeth knew how touchy John got with Ford's attempts to give names to the things they found around the city and was hoping to get a rise out of him but to no avail. The Major stared out into space the entire time that Dr. Weir was there. While he didn't acknowledge her presence, he also hadn't asked her to leave. She took this as a good sign indicating that she was, indeed, reaching him on some level.

Sensing that this was enough for one day – she had stayed twenty whole minutes- she dismissed herself and said her goodbyes. This time she felt renewed determination. She would be back tomorrow.

Elizabeth and Dr. Beckett discussed John's progress. She mentioned how she was still having one-sided conversations with him but noticed that he was physically improving at a fairly quick pace. The Doctor reciprocated with a full report on the Major's condition and that the next step was to start his physical therapy the following week. 'Good luck getting him to cooperate with physical therapy,' Dr. Weir thought wryly to herself as she left the infirmary.

**Merlin71** – thanks for being the very first person to review my very first fan fiction ever. I'm glad to hear that I was keeping in character. I was worried about how that was coming across. I know this is pretty heavy duty. Did I mention that I like to explore emotions? It's very therapeutic for me.

**Celtic Knot** – did you cry? I hope it wasn't too bad. I'm glad to know I'm doing my job and making this emotional and dramatic enough to move someone to tears. Thanks for making me feel so welcomed.

**lorrie** – that _was_ a bad place to stop. I wouldn't be a very good writer if I didn't create some suspense. More is on the way...promise.

**b7-kerravon** – thanks for the encouragement. I really admire you work and it's truly an honor to hear from you.

**WriterJC** – I hope you enjoy the rest and that I don't run out of steam.

**Kagii** – John's easy to make cute. That's one of the most appealing aspects of his character.

**EosHeliosSelene **– hope this chapter holds you for a while. More will be here soon.

**Allegra** – I'm so glad to hear that I brightened your Monday. I hate Monday's. No, you're not a sick puppy. I'm the one who's head this is pouring out of. Didn't know I had it in me. I was worried that I wasn't getting the characterizations just right. I do tend to get straight to the point and I hope to develop a more melodic style someday.

**OK everyone.** Here's the deal. I have two chapters left. I can either prolong John's suffering or bring on the big finish. Do you want some more or shall I stop the madness? I'm surprised that I have stuck with this so far. This is purely beginner's luck. LOL I'm a really good technical writer and I was worried about how I would transfer over to creative writing. Of course, I can always do a sequel or make this a series. We'll see. Hugs to everyone...


	8. The Episode

**Chapter 8: The Episode**

It was the weekend on Atlantis. Dr. Weir opted to put on a jogging suit, one of her favorite outfits to wear off hours. She felt more optimistic than she had since John was dragged through the Stargate that fateful day earlier in the week.

Elizabeth looked forward to this morning's visit with John. On her way to the infirmary, she made a stop by the Major's quarters to retrieve the novel he had brought along - _War and Peace_. She knew he had been crawling through its pages and figured she would read it to him since she was running out of one-sided dialogue.

Dr. Weir greeted Dr. Beckett as she passed his office. "Working the weekend, I see, Doctor," she exclaimed cheerfully as she approached his desk.

The Doctor smiled brightly. "I gave the staff the day off since we have been working so hard on our favorite patient. Which reminds me, now that I have you here, would you mind if I went down to the mess hall for some breakfast and a wee cup of coffee?"

"Of course not."

"Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you, Doctor. I'm fine."

"Alright then," the Doctor resoundingly responded. "I'll be back, shortly."

Elizabeth felt that Carson was in high spirits considering the long hours he had been putting into John's treatment. Things did seem to be looking better she thought to herself as she made her way to the Majors bed cradling his book in one arm.

Elizabeth frowned. She was greeted with an empty bed with the covers rumpled up. Where was the Major? He couldn't have started his physical therapy so soon. Hadn't the Doctor just said that the staff was off for the day?

Good god. Something was definitely wrong she determined as she felt that familiar feeling of the hair on the back of her head standing up. She quickened her pace. Was that whimpering she heard? Dropping the book at the foot of the bed, she went around the far side closest to the wall and braced for the worst.

There, curled up in the corner leaning against the wall in a vertical fetal position, was the Major. His knees were pulled up to his chest in a tight ball and he was rocking back and forth muttering something to himself. Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks. She approached John cautiously, all too familiar with the effects of PTSD.

She gave a quick glance towards the Doctor's office and considered calling out to him but decided it would do no good since the mess hall was at least 10 minutes away and he wouldn't have returned by now. Elizabeth instead turned her attention back to the man trembling in fear in front of her.

"John?" Elizabeth called his name out softly not wanting to startle him. "It's, me. Elizabeth. Its okay. You're on Atlantis. You're safe."

"No. Please stop," the Major uttered defeatedly.

She very carefully inched closer to the Major, shushing and cooing soothing words at she went along. When Dr. Weir felt that he wasn't going to strike or lash out at her, she reached out and touched the Major lightly on is left shoulder.

The Major flinched slightly at her touch but eventually accepted it. She moved to sit on the floor next to and slightly behind him. He was facing towards the corner away from her looking so very vulnerable in his hospital gown.

"Shhh. It's okay," Elizabeth took her right hand and placed it on the Major's right cheek gently pulling his head down to her shoulder as she continued to shush him. Taking her left arm, she wrapped it around John's shoulder pulling him a little closer taking care to not aggravate his injuries.

"Elizabeth?" It came out as a barely audible whisper.

"Yes, John. I'm here," she whispered back in his ear daring not to speak louder for fear of disrupting the moment.

"Please, make them stop," he pleaded.

"Don't worry, John. I'm not going to let them hurt you. You're on Atlantis. You're safe now."

With this reassurance, he turned his body towards Elizabeth's arms curling up in her embrace, burying his head deeply into her warm chest. She tightened her hold on him hoping to make him feel more secure.

Elizabeth caressed John's head, smoothing down his, even more-than-usual, unruly hair. She rested her cheek on his head ever so lightly. The Major's shaking subsided considerably as she continued to speak soothingly to him. She noticed that he was panting now only slightly.

The only indication the Major gave that he was crying were his rhythmic, raspy, repetative breaths, and occasional sniffling. Dr. Weir managed to not get caught up in the moment and gave him the space he needed to deal with his raw emotions realizing she would be no help to John if she broke down along with him.

They remained this way for several minutes. Her shushing and cooing reassuringly, wiping away his tears...and the Major sobbing quietly. Time stood still.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Dr. Beckett returned from his breakfast run. "Doctor? Carson?" Elizabeth called out. "I could use some help over here." Her voice surprisingly did not sound panicky but very much in control.

The Doctor hearing Elizabeth's cry for assistance quickly put his breakfast down and went over to see what the commotion was about. He was not ready for what he was about to see as he rounded the empty bed.

"Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus!" he cursed. "What the bloody hell happened?" he exclaimed his voice going up an octave.

"I'm not sure. I just found him on the floor curled up in a ball scared to death."

"He must have had an episode," the Doctor speculated in a more professional manner referring to the PTSD.

"It looks like you did a fine job of calming him. Let's get him back on the bed."

The Doctor helped Elizabeth extricate the Major from her embrace. Having cried himself to exhaustion, it was easy to convince the Major to get back in bed without much protest. Between the two of them, they hoisted the Major to a sitting position. He was practically dead weight since he wasn't able to use his legs.

Once in a sitting position, the Doctor lowered the Major's upper body back on the pillows and Elizabeth pivoted his feet onto the bed. She caught a glimpse of the book she had dropped and picked it up.

War and Peace. The irony of the title did not escape her. This was supposed to be a peaceful morning with her simply reading to the Major. She wasn't, in her wildest dreams, expecting him to have an episode but she was glad that she was there for him and that he accepted her gestures of comfort.

John rolled over on his right side. Placing the book on the bedside table, Elizabeth proceeded to cover him with a sheet and a blanket tucking them around him as the Doctor took the Major's vitals. Dr. Beckett allowed him to stay on his side not wanting to disturb him further.

"I'm going to give you a mild sedative," the Doctor explained to the Major as he prepared the syringe.

Within a few seconds, the Major was drifting off to sleep. Doctor Beckett replaced his two IV's speculating that the Major must have pulled them off during his episode.

Dr. Weir watched in mild shock. "I thought I was getting through to him," she said to the Doctor staring out absent-mindedly.

"You are," he assured gently. "I don't believe that he would have responded to me as positively as he did to you. PTSD is very unpredictable and there is no way of knowing when it will happen or what will trigger it."

Elizabeth sighed. "I guess you're right, Doctor" she agreed as she glanced at the now slumbering Major, concern etched on her face.

"Why don't you come back later this afternoon I think it's imperative that you be there when he wakes up. It would reinforce the notion that he has support and help him to feel more secure Besides, it looks like you could use some rest, yourself," the Doctor kindly suggested noticing the fatigue on Dr. Weir's face.

Dr. Weir wearily shook her head affirmatively. "Let me know when he begins to wake up." With that she left the infirmary not feeling somewhat drained herself.

A/N: Merlin71, Les1, and Allegra.  
Thanks for taking the time to review. You guys are not going to let me off the hook, are you? laughs. You do realize this is beginners luck! How do you keep from runing out of good ideas? I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I think its my best h/c so far. You have challenged me to continue so I will give it a shot and write some more. I do have some ideas about the physical therapy. I'm so in love with John. sighs I'll try to get Ch. 9 up by this weekend. Hugs... 


	9. The Strategy

**A/N: I am making certian assumptions about Weir's past in this chapter. I don't think there is mention of certaint things I make up about her life in her personnel file or on the TV show. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 9: The Strategy**

Dr. Weir decided to pass the time finding out all she could about PTSD. The Doctor had suggested she start with the DSM-IV (see notes). He loaned her the copy he had brought along with his medical references explaining that this was the next best thing to having a real psychologist around.

Lying in her bed with pillows propped up behind her, Elizabeth flipped to the index finding the PTSD chapter. Having been from a military family, she was aware of this phenomenon occurring in veterans and others that have been through traumatic situations such as child abuse or sexual assault. She would find much of the material familiar based on her own personal experiences.

If it was one thing Dr. Weir had learned through her work was to know your opponent well. Right now, that opponent was PTSD. She familiarized herself with the requirements for making a diagnosis and from what she read, determined that the Major, based on his behavior, had met the first two key criteria: (1) "the person experienced, witnessed, or was confronted with an event or events that involved actual or threatened death or serious injury, or a threat to the physical integrity of self or others....and (2) "the person's response involved intense fear, helplessness, or horror" (APA, 2000).

In addition, the Major was exhibiting behavior in which he was having "recurrent distressing dreams of the event" and was avoiding "thoughts, feelings, or conversations associated with the trauma." (APA, 2000)

The Doctor had also loaned her "Essential Psychopathology and Its Treatment." In this elaborate text, she learned that the victim of PTSD would often only accept support form someone who had experienced a similar trauma (Maxmen & Ward, 1995).

It appeared that the Major was in an acute stage but Dr. Weir couldn't tell if this would become chronic or if his symptoms would persist since not enough time had passed to make those assumptions.

Dr. Weir took the rest of the afternoon to plan out her strategy. Based on what she had learned, she knew what she had to do to possibly help the Major.

Elizabeth finally got a hail from Dr. Beckett explaining that the Major was starting to come around. She quickly made her way to the infirmary and arrived at the Major's side just as he was becoming fully conscious.

The Major's bed had been raised to about a thirty degree angle and had been propped up on pillows. Upon arriving, Elizabeth noticed that he looked peaceful and almost angelic despite the swelling and red blotches on his face. He definitely looked much better since she had last been with him earlier that morning.

Major Sheppard shifted slightly and sighed as he slowly opened his eyes. He became aware of Dr. Weir's presence and looked over at her, locking eyes with the leader of Atlantis. His face was expressionless but his eyes were full of sadness.

Dr. Weir considered this a marked improvement in his demeanor. At least he was acknowledging her presence. The Major swallowed hard. Who was going to make the first move? It would be Elizabeth.

"I know what you're going through, John," she simply stated.

"What would you know about it?" John countered in a low tone through clenched teeth; anger and hurt evident in his voice.

"More than you think," Dr. Weir replied.

Good, she thought. He's fighting me. He was obviously ready to talk. I'll take it.

John figured that Elizabeth knew all the gory details of what they had done to him. "I'm no good to the team," the Major reasoned his tone turning to disgust. "I never have been," he said dejectedly.

"What do you mean you're no good to the team?" Dr. Weir questioned incredulously.

"I've failed them...and I've failed you more times than I care to count" he came back in a harsh whisper.

"Listen to me. You have failed no one. The team needs you now more than ever. I need you," she emphasized the 'I.'

John shook his head in protest not able to look at Elizabeth. How could she possibly need him? He's been nothing but trouble since the beginning. He should have done more to help Sumner. How would she fully trust him after this?

"John," she continued emphatically, "if anyone, I've done the failing. Every time I send a team out on a mission, I run the risk of sending you into a situation that may be potentially hazardous endangering all of your lives. I have to live with the decision that I sent you and Teyla to speak with the Xenotites having no idea how they were going to react."

"I can't face them. Not now. Not like this," he argued, shame written all over his face.

Dr. Weir softened. "Of course you can...and you will."

The Major shook his head "no" showing exasperation with Elizabeth's confidence in him.

Frustrated with John's countenance, Dr. Weir continued her logic, eyes flashing and her voice raised, "Do you honestly think that you're the only person that has ever been victimized like this? You are not the first nor will you be the last person to experience pain," she said a bit on the defensive side. It came out sounding harsher than she intended.

"You wouldn't understand," he barked back with anger and frustration in his own voice.

"Oh, yeah," Dr. Weir challenged in a firm voice raising her eyebrows. "Try me. Believe me when I say I know what you're going through and I'll tell you why."

"John," she paused momentarily, "I was raped."

There. She had said it. Laid it out for John to hear. Absolutely no one else knew about her secret. Not even Simon.

Upon hearing these words, John looked at Elizabeth sharply; a look of simultaneous surprise, horror, and disgust on his face. John felt as though a knife had been plunged through his heart.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Elizabeth, the strongest woman he had even met, was raped? How could that be? The thought invaded his mind like a bad, lingering smell.

"When? How?" he asked in a strained whisper as if he said it any louder the very air around them would freeze and shatter.

"In college by three fraternity brothers," Elizabeth answered matter-of-factly.

This was getting worse for John by the second. He continued to stare at Elizabeth dumbfounded.

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth paused to collect her thoughts. As part of her planned strategy, she would disclose everything.

She launched into her explanation. "I was on my way back to my dorm room after a late night class. I had just taken my last final exam before Christmas break. I was in a hurry to get back to my room so I decided to take a shortcut. Unfortunately, I had to pass by a wooded area that was not very well lit and we had been warned that it might be unsafe at night."

"Three guys came out of nowhere and started following me. They were drunk obviously drinking to celebrate being done with their own exams." John was listening to Elizabeth with rapt attention and concern.

"I knew one of the guys. I had turned him down for a date a couple of weeks before. He must have used this to justify his actions."

"He started to harass me. Wanna have some fun Lizzy? Show us what you got Lizzy," Dr. Weir mimicked in a mocking tone. "I new that I was in big trouble at that point."

Oh, god. John made a mental note to never call her "Lizzy" ever again, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks why she hated that nickname so much.

Elizabeth continued. "I tried to run but they overpowered me and dragged me into the woods. They each took turns having their way with me. The one that I knew was in the lead and the other two seemed to be along for the ride. I sensed that they were reluctant and uncomfortable with the situation."

"The one that knew me started to hit me and said that this would make up for turning him down for a date. I must have blacked out since I don't remember much after that. I wasn't found until the next morning by one of my roommates."

"The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital emergency room. I was so scared," Elizabeth's voice faltered slightly with this statement.

There was a moment of silence between them as John was soaking in this new information. The Major reached for Elizabeth's hand and lightly held it as if it was a very delicate piece of china.

John's eyes were filled with compassion and empathy all of his anger now dissipated. "I'm sorry. I didn't know," he said in a breathless whisper.

"Its okay, John...nobody knows. You won't find it in my personnel file for obvious security reasons," she said in a much stronger, crisper voice.

Elizabeth gave the Major's hand a reassuring squeeze. "It was a long time ago."

John smiled. A little crooked smile, a tiny bit or mirth returning to his eyes mixed with melancholy.

Dr. Weir blinked and cocked her head. "What are you smiling at?"

"You," John replied. "You never cease to amaze me," he added vehemently. He had newfound admiration for her just at that moment. He had never thought he could admire Dr. Elizabeth Weir any more than he already had.

Elizabeth smiled back.

"So, how'd everything turn out?" the Major inquired.

"I pressed charges on the three boys. There was enough evidence to nail all of them," she reported.

"That must have been a difficult process. Most women wouldn't have come forward," the Major drawled.

"It was difficult but what was driving me was my concern that if not stopped, the boys would have continued to victimize other women. I was determined to stop them."

"Soooo...what happened to the frat brats?" John asked not without a little disdain in his voice. Being career military, he had little tolerance for pretty college boys.

"They all served about a year in jail and were not allowed to continue academic careers. The two reluctant boys actually wrote me letters of apology explaining that they had too much to drink and had gotten caught up in the moment. They realized their mistake the following morning when they sobered up, and not believing what they had done, regretted their actions immediately."

"They actually thanked me for turning them in saying that because of me they had turned their lives around. I still hear from them form time to time. Both of them are now married and have children of their own. As for the leader, he continued his criminal behavior and is in jail as we speak for other assault crimes."

"I guess you got over it?" John tentatively asked raising an eyebrow.

"You never really get over it. You just learn to live with it. Use it to your advantage. In my case, I made sure some good came out of it. Rest assured, it didn't happen overnight and it took lots of work."

"So you see, John, good and strength can come out of all negative situations. Sometimes you just need to dig it out. For instance, those two boys might not have gotten on the right path had I not stepped forward and turned them in."

John nodded absent-mindedly forgetting his own trauma for a few moments. "How long did it take you to learn to live with it?" he asked thoughtfully.

"I had nightmares for months afterwards. Fortunately, the university had a very competent counseling staff. They helped me get through the rest of school. I was able to gain my confidence back and keep my grades up."

"...and," John stretched out the word, "here you are."

"Yes, here I am," she smiled bitter-sweetly.

Elizabeth sobered. "John, I want you to know that you have my full support. I know that it's not going to be easy but you'll heal. The process has already begun. Dr. Beckett tells me your wounds are healing quickly. I'm here to make sure your mind heals quickly, as well."

"I also want you to understand that you have nothing to be ashamed of. What was done to you was not your fault and you didn't choose what happened to you and Teyla. Neither of us did."

"I know but I still feel responsible," John answered the defeated attitude returning.

"What those bastards did to you was wrong no matter what. It was their choice."

"Thank you," the Major simply said.

There were a few moments of shared understanding between them. John still couldn't believe Elizabeth's tale. Maybe she did understand his situation, afterall. The sadness returned to his eyes. He was still not ready to talk about his experience but if he decided to share it with anyone, it would be with Elizabeth.

"About earlier today..." the Major started.

Sensing what he was about to say and wanting to spare him the explanation Elizabeth cut him off gently, "Don't mention it."

John shook his head in understanding.

Dr. Beckett, waiting for an opportune time to break in, finally made his move and good-naturedly shooed Elizabeth away claiming that the Major needed his rest.

Elizabeth, realizing she was still holding John's hand, gave it one final squeeze.

"Be well, John."

"Be well, Elizabeth."

Dr. Weir left the infirmary leaving behind a bemused Dr. Beckett. She truly was a remarkable woman. That she had turned John's attitude around was not lost on the Doctor. His spirits were lifted with renewed hope for the Major's predicament. The rest of the evening was uneventful for the Doctor except for changing some of the Major's dressings and giving his injuries a thorough checking over.

**Notes:** I want to give credit where credit is due. I did not make up the PTSD diagnosis.

American Psychiatric Association (2000). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (4th ed. Rev.). New York: Author

Maxmen, J. S. & Ward, N.G. (1995). Essential psychopathology and its treatment (2nd ed.). New York: Norton.

**A/N:** This is where I had thought about ending the story but I think there is still some work ahead for our favorite flyboy. Is John going to recover? Did Weir really make everything all better? Read on and find out. Sorry about getting clinical on you guys. That's the counselor in me. I can't help but make this educational. Thanks again to my reviewers for your wonderful suggestions and encouragement. I hope I can keep this interesting for you. Hugs...


	10. Dinner and Rumors

**Chapter 10: Dinner and Rumors**

Once outside of the infirmary, Elizabeth was met by one hyped-up, Dr. Rodney McKay. "Rodney?" Dr. Weir acknowledged a little surprised. "What can I do for you," she asked as Dr. McKay stepped into stride with her.

"Well, how is he?"

"How's who?"

"Major Sheppard...of course! Who else could I possibly be referring to? Weren't you just in the infirmary to see him?" he questioned rolling is eyes. For all of Dr. Weir's intelligence and diplomatic skills he swore sometimes she could be so dense.

Dr. Weir smiled confidently having just seem the Major. "He's fine."

"Then why won't Dr. Beckett let anyone else see him?" he said in a petulant voice.

"He's in pretty bad shape," she replied not exactly lying to him, "...and Dr. Beckett feels its best to limit his visitors. I respect his decision and you should, too. It's nothing personal."

There she went lecturing him again. "Well...is he improving?"

"Of course he is. I'll let him know you're concerned. I'm sure he would appreciate that you asked about him. Why are you so anxious to know?"

"Well...you know..." he hedged shrugging one shoulder, "we're kind of getting behind at the lab and we could sure use his gene. Not to mention that we need to continue the search for Z.P.M.'s."

Sensing Rodney's nervousness and reluctance to explain his true feelings, Dr. Weir reassured him. "I'm sure he'll be up and around in no time to give you a hand in the lab. His injuries were extensive and he just needs a little more time."

"Goodnight, Rodney," Dr. Weir excused herself.

"Ah...goodnight, Elizabeth," Rodney replied feeling somewhat flustered and at a loss for words. He chided himself for still getting nervous and intimidated around her. He was determined to find out what was going on with the Major. Dr. Beckett was no help since he was in the infirmary twenty-four seven these days. Maybe it was time to do some investigating.

* * *

Rodney made a beeline for the mess hall. Usually around this time of the evening, he could find Dr. Zelenka and some of the other scientists there. Just as he suspected, he spotted Dr. Zelenka having dinner with Dr. Kavanagh.

He went to the kitchen area and grabbing two sandwiches, a cup of coffee, and three deserts, headed for the table where they were, intending to join them.

"Rodney!" Dr. Zelenka greeted the hungry scientist gesturing for him to take a seat. Stress always seemed to make the man want to eat everything in sight. It didn't help that he was hypoglycemic.

"How is your weekend going?" Dr. Zelenka asked genuinely.

"Fine," Rodney replied curtly as he launched into his chicken salad sandwich.

"Is everything all right?" Zelenka inquired. He decided that the man was indeed stressed over something judging by the amount of food he was just about to pack.

"I'm sorry," he apologized realizing how he must have sounded nodding an additional greeting to Kavanagh. "It's just that I can't seem to get a straight answer from anyone about how the Major is doing."

"What have you heard?" Kavanagh asked grinning, his curiosity peaked. Not that he cared much but it was unusual to have the Major out of his way for the better part of a week.

"That's just it. Nothing," Dr. McKay said flatly chewing on his sandwich.

"Well just between us three," Kavanagh cut in, "I sure haven't missed him."

"...and your point would be?" McKay challenged. He was aware of Kavanagh's dislike for the Major and the military presence he represented. McKay had grown to appreciate John in a weird sort of way. The man had saved his ass more times than he cared to admit and he flat out respected his ability to get them out of a tight situation. His whole attitude towards Major Sheppard had turned around after the bug incident.

Kavanagh backed off.

"So, what have you heard?" Zelenka pressed Rodney, having a taste for gossip.

"Well...I waited for Dr. Weir outside the infirmary. She has been visiting the Major quite frequently and I figured that's where she was. Sure enough, she was there and when she came out I asked her about his condition. All she said was that the Major was fine and needed a little more time to recover. No one else has been able to see him. I don't know...it all just seems...fishy. I think there's much more going on than she's letting on." Dr. McKay gulped down a sip of coffee and making a face, grabbed for five sugar packets.

Zelenka nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps there is more to this than we thought," he speculated. "What have you heard Kavanagh?" he asked turning his attention to the younger man.

"Actually," he leaned in to the other two scientists and in a low voice said, "I heard that there was screaming coming from the infirmary. Simpson was passing by there the other morning on the way to the lab and she could have sworn someone was yelling," he reported with a smirky grin on his face obviously delighted with the thought that the Major might be suffering.

"Maybe this is worse than we thought," Dr. McKay realized looking up from his second sandwich, his mind churning.

"Perhaps we are just allowing our imaginations to get the best of us," the Czech scientist chided.

"Well, if Major Sheppard's out of commission, I would be concerned for the security of Atlantis," Kavanagh suggested. "If he's not able to perform his duties, maybe its time we got someone else to be in charge of the military and the off-world teams. My vote is for Sgt. Bates," he added not trying to hide his eagerness.

That rubbed Rodney the wrong way. "Would you just shut it," he barked at Kavanagh with rare assertiveness. "The Major is the best we've got as far as military strategy not to mention the...the, gene he possesses that runs damn near everything on Atlantis." He reached for one of his deserts having gone through his two sandwiches.

Wow...where did that come from? When did the Major become so important to him? It's not like they had hit it off as buddies when they first met and here he was defending him against his fellow scientists. Doesn't he always side with the scientists? What's different now?

"Well it sounds to me that Weir is probably hiding something. I wouldn't doubt it if she was allowing her personal feelings to get in her way just like when the jumper got stuck," Kavanagh defended. He was obviously still prickly with Dr. Weir over their little 'disgreement.'

This time Dr. McKay defended Elizabeth. "If it weren't for her personal feelings, I wouldn't be here having this discussion with you right now." The clarity in Rodney's voice surprised even himself.

"Well..." Kavanagh smirked getting up from the table having finished his dinner, "Major Sheppard has been a problem from the beginning and perhaps its time he step aside. Afterall, he did botch up the first off-world mission losing Sumner not to mention unleashing the Wraith on the entire galaxy." With that suggestion he left a miffed Dr. McKay and befuddled Dr. Zelenka and left the mess hall in search of better things to do with his time. Staring after him as Kavanagh left the mess hall, Rodney decided he was developing a strong dislike for the man.

"What was that all about?" Dr. Zelenka asked Dr. McKay not always sure of Western customs.

"At the moment, I don't care. My only concern right now is getting to the bottom of what's up with the Major."

Rodney finished his third desert and decided to retire to his quarters. He said his goodbyes to Dr. Zelenka and headed back to his room. The evening's conversation was swirling around in his consciousness.

What if there was more wrong with the Major than they thought? What if he was seriously impaired in some way and could not lead any more missions? Surely, Dr. Weir would be more forthright with them if John was in severe shape. If the rumor is true, what could the screaming have been about? His head was starting to ache. He needed answers and he needed them soon.

Rodney decided to go to bed. Tomorrow he would start his inquisition. He had to get over his fears and confront Elizabeth. He made up his mind to not back off the next time they met. The team deserved to know what was going on. She owed them that much.

**A/N:** Merlin 71 – glad you were able to make the connection with John and Elizabeth relating to each other. That was my exact point. I meant to shock everyone with Elizabeth's confession so it must have worked.

I don't know if "smirky" is a real word. I made it up since "smirk-like grin" didn't seem to fit Kavanagh's cheesy, geeky ego. Thanks again for the encouraging reviews. I am actually having fun with this story. I'm making it up as I go so be patient.

Also, not sure if its hypo- or hyperglycemic. I went with hypo-.

I am facing some life challenges this week so I may be slow to post. I have to work late two nights this week and my mother-in-law had two strokes over the past month and we're dealing with her rehabilitation. Someone at work also committed suicide last week and staff is working through that, as well. You all keep me going! Hugs...


	11. Dr Beckett's Dilemma

**A/N: Okay, guys. Just a warning, things are going to get rough, again. A little bit of language, as well. Have your hankies ready...**

**Chapter 11: Dr. Beckett's Dilemma**

_The dungeon was dark and dank. The smell of sweat and stale blood reeked from its musty walls. Holding cells dotted one side of the large, cavernous, subterranean room while torture stations lined the other._

_The stations were made up of five sets of shackles hanging from the ceiling and corresponding small tables with various torture devices neatly arranged on each._

_There was one lone prisoner chained to the middle set of manacles. Her arms were raised over her head, hands bound together making her look even longer and more slender than she already was. Her stark naked body was facing towards the wall away from the table giving her a sight disadvantage._

_The female's body was so stark, in fact, that her milky white skin was a shocking contrast to the dark walls of the chamber. This was further enhanced by illumination coming from somewhere above her head like a spot light._

_She looked like a porcelain doll, fragile and delicate, that had been discarded in the corner of a dark attic. She might not have been able to see her captors, but she could hear their voices, their movements, and smell them._

_"Bring the other prisoner," the leader ordered two guards._

_A few moments later, the guards came back with the other prisoner._

_They forced the prisoner to kneel in front of the leader. His hands bound behind his back. He risked a glance at the female prisoner. Terror and despair permeated his features as the realization of who the woman was, sank in._

_"You will now experience first-hand what is done to those who unleash the Wraith on our people," the leader threatened._

_"You don't want to do this," the male prisoner warned in a low steady voice looking up at the leader.._

_"Unfortunately for you, you are not in a position to make suggestions," the leader reminded the male prisoner._

_The woman was quiet and strong even with the knowledge of what was about to be done to her. She had made up her mind. She would endure whatever they had in mind for her._

_The leader walked over to the small table carefully choosing his first torture device. The male prisoner began to protest. "No, leave her alone. I'm the one you really want."_

_The back of a gloved hand met with the side of the male prisoner's face. His head snapped to one side with the impact, the blow leaving a stinging, tingling sensation._

"_Silence," the leader roared, "Do not interrupt me again."_

_The leader motioned to the guards. They took the male prisoner and, roughly forcing him into a chair, tied and gagged him._

_The leader returned to contemplating his means of torture._

_"Ah... yes. This will do nicely," he hissed the words. "Don't you think?" he asked turning a smiling face towards the two guards and the male prisoner. The two guards nodded eagerly, and smiled towards each other looking very much like tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum._

_The Major's eyes grew wide with disbelief. The leader was holding a whip with several metal barbs attached to the end of it. Testing the instrument a couple of times, he snapped it so that it came within a few inches of the male prisoner's face. He could feel the air rush past him with each pass of the whip. He tried, with all his might, not to flinch._

_The leader turned his attention to the porcelain figure. Strolling casually towards her, he ran two fingers lazily along her shoulders and down to the small of her back. The woman flinched at his touch disgusted by the caress._

_"What a pity," he said turning back to the three men. "She is a lovely creature." Locking eyes with the male prisoner, he said, "I can see what you see in her. Strong-willed, determined. It will be a pleasure breaking her."_

_The male prisoner was seething. He tried his best to think of something but there was nothing he could do._

_Whack..._

_The first crack of the whip sounded out making contact with the woman's vulnerable flesh. The male prisoner involuntarily closed his eyes, wincing._

_Thwack... Crack..._

_The woman arched her back against the painful lashes, but managed to not cry out. Her pale skin now adorned with red rivulets of blood._

_With every other strike, the leader looked over to the male prisoner gauging his reaction. The prisoner was breathing heavily and perspiration was beginning to run down his head, neck, and back._

_The leader laughed a small wicked chuckle, taking delight in seeing the male prisoner squirm. With a tirade of evil laughter, he launched into a barrage of flesh ripping mania. The whipping continued in savage, rhythmic intensity._

_The male prisoner's head was swirling. He was powerless to help the woman. He never felt so useless in his life. This was all his fault._

_The man finally grew tired of his game. Somehow, the woman never cried out. He would try something else. That was good for a warm-up anyway, he mused. The leader longed to hear the woman's sweet voice in the throws of pain._

_He chose another device. He felt it was time for something more...high-tech. He picked up an electric prod. He caressed it almost affectionately and paraded with it in front of the male prisoner. He adjusted the intensity of the device to a medium level, the device sparking in his hands._

_The male prisoner was sick to his stomach. Bile was beginning to collect in his throat. No, not that...anything but that._

_The man went over to the woman leaning in close to her once again. Taking off a glove, he took a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. It was soft and silky just as he imagined it would be. Raising the strand of hair to his nostrils, he sniffed at it dramatically._

_"Hmm...smells lovely. Like a bouquet of freshly cut flowers, I would say." The guards grinned hungrily at each other again. When they performed to the leader's satisfaction, he sometimes let them join in or, if they were lucky, have his leftovers._

_Suddenly the leader scowled and thrust the device into the woman's side. The male prisoner's ears were met with the sound of the device sparking, a rib cracking, and a stifled grunt from the woman._

_The leader continued with his beating. The smell of burning flesh invaded the male prisoner's nostrils. The woman having gone beyond her limits was now crying out._

_"John, please help me," she pleaded. "Please make them stop."_

_"Elizabeth," the prisoner yelled. "Nooooo..."_

* * *

Dr. Beckett was in his office just before dawn the following day. A tech had come to relieve him the night before to care for the Major so that the Doctor could get some much needed rest and sleep. 

He truly felt refreshed. The day before was very productive as far as the Major's treatment was concerned. He decided that he and Elizabeth made a good team. The recovery nurse had also come in for the day. She was actually a good all-around RN and for the life of him Carson couldn't understand why she wasn't a PA by now. If anything happened to him, he knew she was competent enough to step in for him.

The Doctor was pulled out of his thoughts by screaming. "Oh, no, not again," he muttered under his breath. It was the Major. He thought they were making progress.

Dr. Beckett was by the Major's side in a matter of seconds, the recovery nurse right on his heels. He noticed that the Major was screaming Elizabeth's name.

The Doctor tried in vain to get John's attention. "Major? John? Come on, focus for me," he demanded holding the Major at the shoulders.

The Major's eyes were dilated and glassy and seemed to stare out at nothing. The Doctor didn't like the looks of this. Just as he had thought this, the Major began to hyperventilate, his body shuddering. The nurse stepped in with a hand-held ventilator bagging the Major with the pump to help him with his breathing.

"I think he's having a seizure," Dr. Beckett informed the nurse.

A monitor suddenly began to whine indicating that the patient was going into cardiac arrest. The Major was flat-lining, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. The Doctor had a pained look on his face. Damn, he thought, a seizure I can deal with. But this...I don't need this right now.

"We need the crash cart," he indicated to the nurse who was already on it, practically reading the Doctor's mind.

Pulling away the bed covers, the Doctor moved the Major's hospital gown to one side. With a thump to the Major's chest, the Doctor began CPR. "Come on, John, hang on," he pleaded. "I almost lost you once and I'm not going to lose you again," he said in a firm, determined, voice hoping he could reach the Major on some level.

The nurse was at the Major's side the defibrillator paddles in hand and at the ready. "Clear," she yelled and administered a jolt as Dr. Beckett moved out of her way.

The Major's body arched up in reaction to the shock.

Nothing.

"Again," Dr. Beckett ordered as he continued the CPR.

The nurse reset the machine and placing the paddles on each side of the Major's ribcage administered a second jolt.

There was a moment of silent anticipation.

Beep...beep...

The heart monitor indicated that the patient was at normal arrhythmia, heartbeat at a near-normal 68 beats per minute.

Dr. Beckett took his stethoscope and quickly checked the Major's heart and lungs. His heartbeat was strong and his breathing was steady. The Doctor nodded affirmatively to the nurse and let out a sharp, tense breath not realizing he had been holding it. The recovery nurse also had a look of relief on her face. This was getting to be too much of a routine for Dr. Beckett's taste.

As a precaution, the Doctor ordered an oxygen tube for the Major. The Doctor checked John's surgical wounds and around his ribcage concerned that they may have further aggravated his injuries. Fortunately, only one rib was knocked out of place and needed to be reset.

The Doctor adjusted the wayward bone thankful that the Major was unconscious for the moment to spare him the pain. He went over John's vitals, once again, having the nurse make notes on the Major's chart. Satisfied that he was stable, he replaced the hospital gown over his friend's pale and exhausted body. The nurse pulled the bed covers up to the Major's chest gently tucking them under his arms.

That was too close for comfort. Damn that PTSD. It was going to be the death of the Major, yet. The Doctor had never seen such a severe episode. The Major must have been having a night terror. He had never known PTSD to come close to killing anyone unless of course, the person decided to take their own life.

This was going to set them back again. All that progress Elizabeth made has probably gone down the drain. Dr. Beckett wasn't sure how he was going to explain to Elizabeth that they had nearly lost him.

The Doctor gave some final directions to the nurse and, gathering himself, returned to his office contemplating along the way how he was going to break the news to Dr. Weir. He sighed deeply and thumbed the comm on his console.

**A/N: I'm not sure I got all the medical stuff correct but I tried to make it exciting. Stay tuned for more. Might be a week but hang in there. :Reaches for a tissue: I think I made myself cry...**

**In case anyone's wondering, PA Physician's Assistant.**


	12. Comms and Cards

**A/N: Hello everyone. It's with a heavy heart that I report that my mother-in-law passed away this past week. It has been a very difficult and emotional time for me and my husband so I won't have a chance to post as often as I would like. Plus, I'm going to need some time to think this story through since it's a WIP and I'm making it up as I go. Thanks to my reviewers for hanging in there with me and here's a chapter that I had sketched out this past wee to tie you over. Please see notes below...**

**Chapter 12: Comms and Cards**

Dr. Weir woke up thinking about her encounter with Dr. McKay the evening before. She felt she had done a good job of deflecting his questions but she wished she wouldn't have had to. Elizabeth understood his concerns and wondered how many others wanted to know what was going on. She hadn't even considered what must be going around the rumor mill by now.

It had been almost a week since Major Sheppard and Teyla had returned through the Stargate and she could just imagine what was being discussed among the staff. Perhaps it was time that she made a formal announcement about the Major's condition. He seemed to be doing better. Physically, he was making great strides. Mentally...that was another story. She wouldn't have to go into detail about the abuse he had received. That was for John to share if he chose to.

She should at least talk to the team. Leaving them in the dark much longer was going to be difficult at the least. Teyla would definitely want to see the Major when she got back from the mainland having shared the negative experience with him and wanting to offer her support. Dr. Weir was surprised that she hadn't heard from her, by now, asking..._no_...demanding to see him.

Dr. Beckett couldn't keep visitors at bay for much longer. Both of them were running out of excuses. They would have to discuss the Major's condition eventually. The hard part was going to be to convince the Major to allow them tell the team.

After, she showered and dressed, Dr. Weir decided that she would start her day with her usual steaming cup of coffee before heading to the infirmary for her daily visit with the Major. She headed for the mess hall where she was met with several _"Good morning, Dr. Weir's."_

The greetings made her realize that she hadn't been too visible to the crew all week having been so wrapped up with the Major's recovery. She recognized some of the staff from the weekend night shift just getting off for the morning. Hardly anyone else would be awake this early.

She was looking forward to her morning coffee but she was looking even more forward to spending some more quality time with John. She smiled inwardly to herself glowing from the progress she had made with him the night before. They had had an entire conversation, stained as it was, but a conversation nonetheless.

Yes...she would be eager to check on his attitude today, confidant that she would soon have something positive to report to the team.

* * *

Dr. Beckett commed Dr. Weir in the hopes that she was already awake hoping to not disturb her sleep. He knew that she was a very early riser and might be up by now even on a weekend day. Of course, this was an emergency and she really needed to know what was going on with the Major so he was sure he would be forgiven if he caused her to awaken prematurely. 

He hailed Dr. Weir at her quarters several times and much to his dismay, she did not respond. The Doctor moved on to trying her office and the control room to no avail. Beginning to feel a rush of anxiety and in a desperate attempt to reach Dr. Weir, he made a general public announcement.

_"Dr. Weir, to the infirmary. Dr. Weir, you are needed in the infirmary."_

The Doctor groaned inwardly at himself upon realizing what he had just done. The ramifications of the curiosity that this might generate were already weighing heavily on his conscious. What is done is done, he reasoned. Elizabeth had to know about the Major and know now.

* * *

There was a moment of hushed silence when the page came over the general comm system. This was rarely used except for the time when the young Athosian boy, Jinto, had gotten lost in an unexplored part of the city encountering a strange shadow entity. Curiosity of who was being called got the best of the few crew members in the infirmary and they stopped to stare momentarily in Dr. Weir's direction whispers of inquisitiveness arising between them. 

Dr. Weir, upon hearing herself being hailed, dropped the cup of coffee she was pouring for herself and, spilling half of its contents, immediately headed for the mess hall exit. She became aware of her heart pounding in her chest. Her mind was racing. Was something wrong with John? Was there an emergency? She was gripped with a deep sense of anticipatory anxiety.

In her haste and being lost in thought, she didn't see the figure that was headed towards her at the exit until it was too late. She nearly ran headlong into Dr. McKay and had to stop herself short before a full-frontal collision ensued. Rodney looked up, momentarily surprised. "Oh...Dr. Weir, just the person I need to see," he said taking advantage of the situation and half blocking Dr. Weir's way.

"Not now, Rodney," Dr. Weir said emphatically in her '_get out of my way now voice_' raising a halting hand.

"But...it's important," Rodney replied side-stepping Dr. Weir.

"It's going to have to wait until later," Dr. Weir said beginning to get extremely frustrated with the delay of getting to the infirmary and to the Major.

"But...," Dr. McKay started again.

"Rodney," Elizabeth stated stretching out her voice in a low, threatening manner. "Later!" she firmly stated.

Dr. McKay getting the message, finally moved to one side letting Dr. Weir continue on to her destination. "Promise?" he called after her, completely clueless of Dr. Weir's haste.

"I promise," Dr. Weir cried over her shoulder as she rushed towards the infirmary.

* * *

Rodney watched Dr. Weir for a few more seconds until she fianlly disappeared around a corner. Perplexed, he wondered why she was in such a hurry. Probably had something to do with the page from the infirmary...of _course...the Major._ The realization hit him like a freight train. He would have to get the scoop on that later deciding that his dulled senses must be from a lack of food. 

In the kitchen area, he grabbed some reconstituted powered eggs and a cup of coffee and headed to a nearby table to sit down and eat his breakfast. His mind was a jumble of thoughts and he could only imagine what was going on in the infirmary with the Major. He hoped it wasn't anything serious. Of course, they would let them know if it was serious...wouldn't they?

A dark-skinned young man appeared before Dr. McKay, a tray of food in his hands. It was Lt. Ford. "Good morning, Dr. McKay. May I join you?" he asked with military politeness and a never ceasing, infectious, toothy smile plastered on his face.

"Sure, have a seat." Rodney liked Ford well enough. He was like an annoying little brother at times but he appreciated Ford's acceptance of him. He didn't think there was anyone the young man didn't like or didn't get along with.

"So...what do you think that was all about?" he asked Dr. McKay referring to Dr. Weir rushing out of the mess hall after being commed.

"Hmm... What? What was what all about?" an extremely preoccupied Rodney McKay asked plastic fork mid-way up to his mouth.

"Dr. Weir, practically running out of the mess hall," Ford reiterated pointing towards the exit. He liked Dr. McKay well enough, but sometimes he could be so...absent-minded.

"Oh...yes, something having to do with Major Sheppard, probably," he said still miffed from being brushed aside by Dr. Weir once again although she probably had good reason. "I ran into Dr. Weir on the way over here and when I asked about the Major, she practically bit my head off. It appeared she was in a hurry to get to the infirmary."

"You don't think something is seriously wrong with the Major, do you?" Lt. Ford suddenly sobered, worry in his tone. He was glad that Dr. McKay was there and that he had someone to voice his concerns to.

"I don't know, Lieutenant. I'm really starting to get really concerned about the situation. Dr. Weir and Carson have been awfully secretive all week."

"Tell me about it," Lt. Ford pouted, "I gave up asking Dr. Weir about how the Major was doing and trying to visit him. The Doc has the infirmary shut up tight with no one in or out."

"Hmmm...yes, I tried on more than one occasion to ask Dr. Weir about the Major and she keeps brushing me off. She insists that he's fine and just needs a little more time to heal but I'm not buying that story."

"I hope he's okay. It's not like the Major to stay in the infirmary for this long.

He hates the infirmary," he said with sadness for his commanding officer in his voice.

"Good point," Dr. McKay agreed feeling not too happy himself. The two men continued to eat their breakfast in silence each inwardly contemplating Major Sheppard's quandry.

Lt. Ford brightened abruptly, a huge grin on his face not being one to stay discouraged for too long. "Maybe the Major just needs some cheering up. I know, we could send him some get well cards. Maybe even get him some flowers from the mainland," he added with a heart full of joy.

"What good would that do?" Rodney asked truly unaware.

"Come on, Dr. McKay. Don't you like getting greeting cards and flowers? Hasn't anyone ever given you a birthday card?"

"Well...no...not really," Dr. McKay stated in a '_should someone have_' voice.

Lt. Ford felt sorry for Dr. McKay every once in a while. This was one of those times. It didn't take too much for him to imagine the physics genius not being popular enough to get greeting cards growing up. Social skills were not, afterall, Dr. McKay's forte.

"Well, take my word for it. It will cheer him up."

"Okay, if you insist," Rodney shrugged really not getting it, "...but where are we going to get greeting cards from? It's not like we can just gate to the nearest Hallmark store and purchase them."

"C'mon, Doc, use your imagination. We'll make them ourselves. Haven't you ever heard that homemade is more meaningful?" he chided Dr. McKay good naturedly. He couldn't believe that this brilliant scientist could be so impractical.

"W...we?" Rodney stammered.

"Yes..._we_," Lt. Ford emphasized.

"Lieutenant, if you haven't noticed, I have no artistic ability whatsoever," Rodney protested.

"Don't need any, we'll use Publisher. It has the pictures already drawn for you," Lt. Ford replied shrugging off Dr. McKay's protestations.

"Oh..." was all Dr. McKay could say as Lt. Ford stated the obvious. Taking the clueless physicist by the arm, the Lieutenant proceeded to lead him to the closest laptop and printer. This was going to be so much fun and it would be something productive to do rather than sit there and brood all day over what was wrong with the Major.

**R/N:**

**Chamonix:** Thanks for the tip. I didn't mean to confuse anyone. In fact, I'm really good at confusing myself so I can see how this happened. This was my attempt at using a bibliography in APA style which I am more familiar with. I will make note of what I credit at the top next time. You just don't know who might be reading your stories and I didn't want to be accused or plagiarism.

**SKRoberts:** I think I prefer to be addressed as "Wicked Evil." I do take that as a compliment. I blame my childhood. My husband has been teasing me and thinks I can give Steven King a run for his money. I'm really nice once you get to know me. :smiles sweetly:

**Marlin 71: **Thanks so much for hanging in there with me. You're comments have been helpful and inspiring. I was so excited to hear you got the connection between John and Elizabeth's three tormentors. The subconscious can be a powerful thing. That's exactly what I was going for.

**Madame Hardy:** Currently, Teyla is on the mainland recovering from her part of the ordeal with her people. I did intend to write her back in, I promise. Maybe even with a vengeance :LOL: This is my first fic ever so I'm not very skilled yet at developing characters and weaving them all into a story. It will be good practice for me to find her a place in the scheme of things.

**Zimbing:** Glad to know I got the emotions right.

**EosHeliosSelene:** Thanks so much for catching that. I should have researched it more thoroughly. If you take out Dr. Beckett's line about John having a seizure plus the other reference to a seizure, it should fix the scene or you could chuck it up to a frazzled Dr. Beckett.

**Allegra: **Thanks for hanging in there. I hope I can keep on impressing you. I'm going to watch the medical stuff a little closer so that it's even more authentic.

**Wolf Maid:** Glad to hear you're enjoying the story. Stay tuned.

**nebbyJ:** I won't ever explicitly describe sexual abuse. Not my cup of tea. I do prefer to focus on the recovery aspect. This is a tough subject and I'm glad you enjoyed my story enough to see past me alluding to the violence. I'm also much more interested in emotional cognition. It's the counselor in me.


	13. More News for Elizabeth

**A/N: I want to thank everyone for all your condolences and kind words. I also appreciate the great reviews and suggestions. The past two weeks have been a challenge and I hope I get by groove back. I need to get John back on his feet. So here go a couple of more chapters with more on the way!**

**Chapter 13: More News for Elizabeth**

Dr. Weir entered Dr. Beckett's office in a rush coming face to face with the Scot, a look of wild desperation on her face. The Doctor, noticing Elizabeth's distress, took her by the upper arms in an effort to calm her down. "He's alright, lass," he said reassuringly locking eyes with the near-frantic woman. "We need to talk. Here...have a seat," He gently led Dr. Weir over to a chair and guided her into a sitting position.

"I came as quickly as I could. What's going on?" she asked still trying to catch her breath. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like what she heard and braced herself for the worst.

"The Major had another episode this morning. I believe he was having a night terror. He woke up screaming and...he...ah...was calling your name." The Doctor said hesitantly not sure how Dr. Weir would react.

"Calling my name?" Elizabeth repeated questioningly after the Doctor. She knitted her eyebrows and, tilting her head, gave the Doctor a questioning look, deep concern written all over her face.

The Doctor took a deep breath and letting it out slowly continued giving Elizabeth the news. "The Major was apparently so distressed by this last dream that he went into cardiac arrest. We almost lost him, Elizabeth," he said in a near whisper, his voice full of grief.

Dr. Weir paled and her eyes widened in disbelief. She was gripping the arms of the chair, knuckles now turning white. The Doctor gave her a few moments to digest the disturbing information.

"You mean he almost...died." It was a statement, not a question. The last word was a struggle to utter and came out in a croaked whisper. She slowly shook her head 'no' in denial looking down towards the floor, contemplating the implications.

"Aye, we had to resuscitate him," Dr. Beckett reported. Elizabeth looked up sharply at him. Reading Dr. Weir's body language he quickly added, "He's stable now and is recovering nicely."

Elizabeth stood up and looked towards the Major's bed. "May I see him?" she asked turning hopeful eyes to the Doctor.

"Of course...but just for a minute," Dr. Beckett reminded.

Dr. Weir nodded her understanding, blankly looking down the infirmary in the direction of the Major's bed. Dr. Beckett accompanied Dr. Weir to the Major's bedside figuring that his presence might make it a little easier on her.

She took in the still form on the bed. The Major was deathly pale and she noticed how sunken in his cheeks were. Gone was the angelic face she had remembered from the day before replaced with a pained expression. Even in unconsciousness, his face showed the stress of surviving the cardiac arrest.

She watched his chest rise and fall rhythmically with the aid of a ventilator that the Doctor had placed the Major on earlier to assist with his breathing. She took comfort in hearing the heart monitor chirping happily away to a steady beat. Her solemn mood was further set by the low lighting that the Doctor had ordered giving the infirmary an eerie glow.

"Let me know if you need anything, Elizabeth." With that, the Dr. Beckett went back to his office sensing that he should leave Elizabeth alone with the Major.

She couldn't believe how fragile he looked. His six foot plus frame seemed so small and thin. The vibrant man she knew so well looked as though he had lost weight to the point of getting swallowed up by the bed covers and pillows.

Elizabeth grasped the Major's hand closest to her. Raising it up, she cradled the limp appendage to her chest. She took her other hand and placed it on his forehead caressing it with her thumb. She smoothed back his hair noticing that his forehead was cool to the touch giving her more assurance of his stable condition.

Elizabeth leaned in close to the Major and whispered to him not intending to awaken him but only to console him in his slumber. "John. It's me, Elizabeth. I'm so sorry. I never should have shared my story with you. I know that you might have had a bad dream about me. I can't live with the thought that I brought this on."

She moved her hand down to cup his cheek. The major, seeming to sense the comfort, moved ever so slightly into Elizabeth's touch snuggling into the warmth of her hand. Elizabeth smiled meekly at his efforts. "I'm here for you and I promise I'm going to do all I can to make everything all right. I have to go now, but I'll be back later when you're awake." She hoped that, on some level, she was reaching him.

Elizabeth leaned further in towards the Major and brushed his forehead with a tiny kiss realizing how awfully attached she was getting to this man. Taking the hand she had been cradling in both of hers, she carefully placed it across the Major's abdomen giving it one last squeeze. One lone tear was glistening down her stricken face. Brushing the wayward moisture aside, she collected herself and headed back to the Doctor's office.

Elizabeth felt sick to her stomach. What had she done? Did she press the Major too far too fast? Was she the cause of this last episode? Is she responsible for making him worse by telling him about her rape?

As Dr. Weir stepped into the Doctor's office, she wavered on her feet. Dr. Beckett perceiving her state, moved in next to her catching Dr. Weir in his arms. He led her back to the chair she had been sitting in earlier and lowered her into it.

Flustered and embarrassed, Dr. Weir brushed the Doctor's arms away. "I'm alright, Doctor," she insisted quickly composing herself back to her business as usual tone. "I just can't help but wonder if this last episode was my fault."

"Now don't go blaming yourself, lass. It's the bloody post-traumatic stress. It's very unpredictable. There's no way of knowing what will trigger an episode. It's the nature of the beast."

"I hope you're right, Doctor. So...what am I supposed to tell the team? I was planning to talk to them about the Major's condition provided, of course, the Major agrees. I don't see that happening anytime soon. It's getting harder to keep this under wraps." Dr. Weir continued, "Dr. McKay keeps pestering me and quite frankly, I'm running out of excuses and I need do to something before any damaging rumors take hold."

"I agree," the Doctor concurred. "It would be best if they heard it from you rather than through the rumor mill."

"The only problem is going to be to convince the Major that we need to let McKay, Ford, and Teyla know what's going on. He feels that he has failed all of us and can't bring himself to face them."

"I'll see what I can do to influence that on my end, however, I believe we're going to have to rely on your negotiating skills once again," the Doctor suggested.

"If I can present this in a manner and explain to the Major that we won't have to be explicit about the abuse he suffered, then I might be able to convince him to let the team know about the post-traumatic stress."

"Aye...that sounds like a good plan to me," the Doctor agreed. "I have a feeling, as close as they have become, that once Rodney, Teyla, and Aiden know, they will want to intervene in some way. I would like to make sure they know what's at stake before we try to incorporate them into a treatment plan."

"I have no doubt they would want to help the Major but I agree that we must make sure that whatever we do is appropriate. We definitely don't want to further aggravate his condition," Elizabeth stated thoughtfully. "Any suggestions, Doctor?"

"I will do some research and check our databases to find out what I can about treatment modalities for victims of PTSD. Perhaps I can come up with a way to help the Major that we can all participate in. I understand that there are some group therapy techniques that we may be able to utilize with the team."

"Very well, Doctor. Please let me know what you find out and when John wakes up and is able to have visitors again." Dr. Weir got up from the chair getting ready to leave and allow the Doctor time to attend to his patient and his research.

"It may be a while before the Major is ready for visitors, but I will keep you posted."

"How long do you anticipate?" Dr. Weir inquired.

"Up to twenty-four hours...sooner with a little luck."

"Very well, let me know when I can come see him. Oh...and Doctor, please don't use the public comm system this time," she half-scolded with a small grin on her face.

The Doctor took a breath and grinned back. "I won't if you promise to be somewhere where I can easily reach you."

"It's a deal."

With that issue settled, Dr. Weir turned on her heels, said her goodbyes. She would do what it takes to get the Major back on his feet and mentally healthy again. Okay, so he had a setback, she was determined to not let this get in her way. She had made a promise to the Major to make everything alright; albeit, he was unconscious at the time, but she intended to keep that promise, nevertheless.

**Notes: Thanks again to all my reviewers!**

**Furlings are Cats:** Thanks for the tip, I tried it so hopefully, that will allow for more reviewers to post. I try to hear the actors in my head and even act it out so I think that helps with the characterizations.

**Katrina O'Neill:** Yep...its my first fic ever. Just cough it up to life experience plus I have read a lot of books over my lifespan. I have never taken formal creative writing so I write purely intuitively. I am a good technical writer so I'm sure some skill transferred over. Thanks and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

**Singing Wolf:** In retrospect, I can see where I didn't set this up just right. Rodney and Ford know he's been injured but they don't know about the abuse he received, not even Teyla realizes how much the torture has affected him psychologically. Only Dr. Weir and Dr. Beckett are aware of the effects of the trauma on the Major. I didn't intend the rest of the crew to know about the PTSD and that's why Rodney suspects there is something more to the Major's predicament than what they already know. This is my first fic ever so your comments are really helping me. This was supposed to be short but its turning into a monster and I'm having a hard time keeping up the intensity. I should have started out smaller (LOL)!


	14. Research

**A/N: This chapter is going to get clinical again and contains more cited research. I decided to not add a bibliography at the end since it would be way too long. If you have questions about any of the research, please e-mail and I'll send you the information. Suffice to say that I did pull from several resources and did not make the research up. I give complete credit to the author's of the research.**

**Chapter 14: Research**

Dr. Beckett had assigned nurses and technicians shifts throughout the day to observe the Major and care for him while he was in recovery after flat-lining earlier that morning. This served a dual purpose since it would free him up to do his research.

Major Sheppard was still on the ventilator and the Doctor knew that he would have to eventually get the Major to start breathing on his own. In fact, he should probably remove him from the breathing apparatus sooner than later before he made him dependent on the mechanism.

He decided that he would give it a try after lunch. In the mean time, he went through his psychiatric databases and found some helpful research on PTSD. He came across several journal articles focusing on various treatment modalities. These would prove useful since he was a bit rusty with what little psychiatric training he had received in med school.

He recalled that there were several psychopharmaceuticals used in the treatment of symptoms in patients with PTSD including phenelzine, imipramine, and carbamazepine. Each of these could be used for various psychological issues such as nightmares, flashbacks, and intrusive memories; social withdrawal and numbing; and controling of aggressive behavior and irritability, respectively (Maxmen & Ward, 1995).

That was all fine and dandy but none of these drugs were available in his pharmacy stores. He had a handful of antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications but nothing that could be of real help. It could take up to two weeks for him to synthesize the substances even if he did have access to plants on the mainland with the properties he needed to extract. Dr. Beckett decided that the best course of action would be to take a more holistic approach. He would pull from the resources he had available, mainly the people in the Major's life. So with that in mind he launched into his research.

The first article the Doctor came across compared trauma-focused versus non trauma-focused group therapy. There was no significant difference in outcome of the treatment; however, the trauma-focused therapy was more effective in reducing numbing and avoidance behaviors both of which the Major had recently displayed (Schurr, et. al., 2003). The Doctor also discovered that nightmares could be transformed into a therapeutic tool where the depotentiation of a dream could increase control and confidence for the person working through trauma (Brockway, 1987). This could prove useful in helping to contain the Major's episodes and give him a sense of control over his own treatment.

Another article investigated the use of group therapy in helping with feelings of inadequacy and low self-esteem. The research indicated that individuals in group therapy for PTSD, when given pre- and post-test assessments for low self-esteem, showed an improvement in their scores when compared with a control group that did not receive group therapy (Volkner, 1999). This information was especially useful to the Doctor in understanding how to help John with his feelings of shame and not being able to face his teammates.

Further research, gave more credence to group therapy with the authors arguing that sufferers of military-related trauma are not necessarily "cured" of PTSD but to come to recognize the lasting and profound impact of trauma on their lives. This can be done while exploring the potential for sharing, little-by-little, their experience of self-renewal with group therapy members. The article argued that a connection to a sense of self and the realization by the victim of available personal, familial, and societal resources, provide them with a safe environment when treated in a group setting (Ford & Stewart, 1999).

The most helpful article the Doctor reviewed revealed that there are three group therapy modalities that worked best including supportive, psychodynamic, and congnitive-behavioral that he could choose to utilize in the Major's treatment (Foy, et.al., 2001). Upon reviewing all the relevant research available to him, Dr. Beckett decided that a coordinated treatment incorporating a group modality would be most beneficial to the Major. He also, determined that a cognitive-behavioral approach would work best with Major Sheppard's personality.

Encouraged with his findings, Dr. Beckett believed he could devise a treatment plan utilizing the Major's teammates. He could enlist their help and integrate the mental healing along with his physical therapy utilizing a dual seamless process. In other words, he would be killing two birds with one stone. The team could participate physical therapy exercises as a way to build trust at the same time providing the Major with the emotional support he needed. The team could act as surrogate family members providing a safe environment for the Major to recover in. The Doctor smiled inwardly at himself wondering if anyone could have come up with a more ingenious plan. He was starting to sound like Rodney.

The main obstacle to his brilliance would be getting the Major to agree to such an arrangement. Dr. Beckett knew he could count on the team to pitch in. They had been trough so much already and had formed the requisite bonds. The Major could be a pretty stubborn man but the Doctor had on more than one occasion seen the softer side of him. He recalled a certain occasion, when the Major offered to help a certain Wraith by the name of Steve, from certain death. He was sure he could exploit this part of John's personality.

It was getting close to lunch. The Doctor went to check on the Major and to give the technician some instructions before heading to the mess hall for a sandwich and some coffee. Dr. Beckett was anxious to share his findings with Dr. Weir and receive her blessing on his treatment plan.

He returned to his office with lunch in hand. He poured through some more research and once he had downed his coffee and sandwich, decided it was time to take the Major off of the ventilator. He hoped to bloody hell that there would be no unforeseen complications.

The Doctor strode over to the Major's bedside and the tech, knowing what procedure was to be performed, joined to assist him. Dr. Beckett quietly sighed as the technician turned off the breathing apparatus as instructed and removed the breathing mask from the Major's face.

There were a few tense seconds as the Major's breathing came to a halt. Much to the Doctor's relief, the Major took in a stable breath and after a few more breaths, yawned. The Doctor and the tech exchanged delighted smiles and head nods. Dr. Beckett listened to the Major's lungs with his stethoscope. Once satisfied that his patient was breathing steadily, he indicated to the tech that the apparatus could be removed to the storage area.

The Doctor noticed that some of the color had returned to the Major's face and that he looked somewhat more relaxed. Thankfully, the Major was in excellent physical condition or else he wouldn't imagine him surviving this ordeal. He was pleased with how quickly he was bouncing back. He hoped that the Major's mental resolve and resilience would also eventually kick in allowing for a quick recovery.

The Doctor would attempt to awaken the Major later in the early evening reasoning that the sooner he was conscious, the sooner he would recover. When the tech returned, the Doctor went back to his office and passed the afternoon sketching out a treatment plan to have ready to report to Dr. Weir. There was now no doubt in his mind that the Major could completely recover from the post-traumatic stress with the help of his friends.


	15. Discussions

**Chapter 15: Discussions **

Dr. Weir was walking back to her quarters the news about the Major still fresh in her mind. She was brought out of her thoughts by a voice calling to catch up to her from behind.

"Dr. Weir, may I have a word with you?"

Elizabeth froze in her tracks. She knew that voice all too well. She was not too crazy about coming across this individual, especially after the trying morning she was having.

Dr. Weir made it a point to find something about everyone on the Atlantis staff that she liked and appreciated. She had become very good at tolerating many personality quirks in her line of work. However, the voice that belonged to the person coming up behind her went beyond her tolerable limits.

Although, he was a brilliant scientist, he was on of the worst team players on her staff. He had almost cost them the lives of Major Sheppard and his team and she has had to remind him of his lack of commitment on at least one dreadful occasion.

Dr. Weir slowly turned around not really wanting to confront the body attached to that voice and encountered Dr. Kavanagh. Thankfully, the hallway they were in was uninhabited. Based on her past experience with this egoistic scientist, she knew any conversation with him could potentially get heated up and was hoping no one else would be around to witness their discussion.

"Dr. Kavanagh, what can I do for you?" she asked in an overly civil tone laced with a bit of ice. She repositioned herself to a nearby niche in the hallway forcing Kavanagh to follow. If this discussion did get hot, she wanted to avoid another public display.

"I wanted to discuss an issue that has come to the attention of myself and some of the other scientists."

Oh...this was so not going to be good, "What scientists, exactly?"

"Uh...myself, Simpson, and Grodin." Dr. Weir raised an eyebrow. Dr. Kavanagh continued, "We understand that Major Sheppard has been incapacitated over the past week."

"And...where are you getting your information from?" Dr. Weir was not doing a good job of hiding her impatience with this man as she crossed her arms across her chest waiting for his explanation.

"Well...you know. People talk. Everyone knows he's been in the infirmary for a week. This has made us concerned for the safety of Atlantis. We feel the base is extremely vulnerable with our primary military leadership out of commission."

"What are you suggesting, Dr. Kavanagh?" Weir wasn't in the mood to correct his assumption about the Major.

"Well, we believe you should appoint someone else to take his place. If the Major's unable to perform his duties to their fullest, we need someone who can. We have discussed it and would like to see Sgt. Bates placed in charge."

Dr. Weir felt her throat tighten subconsciously in self-defense. "Sgt. Bates is already in charge of security for the base."

"Yes...that's all well and good; however, he only has authority over operations on Atlantis. Who's in charge if some outside threat comes through that gate and we need top military authority. What happens then?"

Unfortunately, the scientist had a valid point and Dr. Weir admitted to herself she did not want to even consider the Major not recovering fast enough to handle an unforeseen threat.

"Lt. Ford would be next in line to command in Major Sheppard's absence."

Kavanagh rolled his eyes and smirked dramatically. "That two month old? What does he know?" he commented sarcastically.

Dr. Weir's blood began to boil. How dare this man presume to judge the character of her crew? Lowering her arms, she took a step forward getting into Kavanagh's face. "I'll have you know that Lt. Ford has displayed on more than one occasion, the most level-headed demeanor than most other people on this crew. That young man has displayed poise and good judgment under less than ideal circumstances, especially under fire, and furthermore has not once complained about it."

Kavanagh continued to smirk, shaking his head in disbelief at Dr. Weir's rant.

That did it. "I trust his judgment over a certain scientist I know," Dr. Weir said locking eyes with Kavanagh.

Dr. Kavanagh abruptly stopped smirking returning Dr. Weir's gaze. He wasn't about to let that one slip by. Finding his grin again he countered, "I might have to agree with you on that point. Perhaps it would be best if Lt. Ford were in charge. The Major has demonstrated from the beginning a certain level of incompetence. He was responsible for losing Sumner and unleashed the Wraith on the entire galaxy on his first mission out."

That really did it. Dr. Weir made a huge effort to check her anger. It wouldn't be worth her effort to unleash her wrath on this arrogant annoyance. "Until you go out there in the field and deal with some of the unknowns the Major and his team have had to contend with, you have no right to judge his actions. I couldn't even rely on you during a crisis here on Atlantis. I'd be hard pressed to trust you off-world. So, Mr. Kavanagh," she emphasized _'Mr.'_ purposely dropping his appropriate title, "before you go around deciding who should be in charge, I encourage you to first think about your own unimpressive track record." Even though her voice had increased in volume, there was a controlled lethality in it that made Kavanagh take a step back.

"I haven't exactly seen you display initiative and act as a team player. I have other duties to attend to so if you don't have any more positive suggestions, this conversation is over." Dr. Weir brushed past Dr. Kavanagh before she unleashed her entire wrath on the scientist. He was becoming a huge problem and she wasn't sure what she was going to do about it. A fuming Dr. Weir intending to retreat to her quarters, stormed down the hall leaving an equally fuming Dr. Kavanagh behind.

* * *

Dr. Weir hadn't even walked a hundred feet when she heard, yet, another voice calling her name from behind. "_Now what?" _she thought to herself still irritated by her run-in with Dr. Kavanagh. 

"Dr. Weir...Dr. Weir?" the voice called.

Recognizing the voice, Elizabeth turned around in a huff. "Now what, Lieutenant?"

Lieutenant Ford was slightly taken aback but was not entirely surprised by Dr. Weir's demeanor.

"For the last time, Lieutenant, the Major is fine," she flared assuming he was about to ask one more time about the Major's condition.

Lt. Ford, seemingly unphased by her outburst continued, "Yes ma'am. I understand ma'am. It's just that...well, some of us got together and made the Major some get well cards and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind giving them to him the next time you see him?" The Lieutenant held what looked like several greeting cards out in front of him.

Upon hearing these sentiments, Dr. Weir immediately regretted her reaction to the Lieutenant. Softening her demeanor, she reached out for the cards and smiled warmly at the young man. "Thank you Lieutenant. I'm sure the Major will appreciate the gesture."

Lt. Ford broke out in his usual beaming grin. "Yes ma'am, we made them ourselves," he reported enthusiastically proud of his ingenuity.

Dr. Weir smiled back. Yes...this young man was the epitome of grace under fire. "I will see to it that the Major receives these and, by the way, the Major is doing fine."

"Thanks, Dr. Weir." Lt. Ford turned to leave not wanting to take up too much of her time.

"Oh, Lieutenant," Dr. Weir called after him, "I need to ask you a favor."

"Sure, name it."

"I need to have Teyla brought back from the mainland. I would like to assign the task to you."

"The Lieutenant smiled widely jumping at any chance to pilot a puddle jumper. He was somewhat honored knowing that Dr. Weir could have asked Stackhouse or Markham, instead.

"Sure, I'd be happy to pick Teyla up."

"Good, I will notify Teyla and make arrangements to have her ready in the morning at say around oh nine-hundred hours?

"Yes, ma'am," Lt. Ford dipped his head in confirmation, "I'll have a Puddle Jumper 1 ready."

"Very well, Lieutenant. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yes, ma'am," The Lieutenant turned on his heels sporting an extra spring in his step delighting in the thought that he would be piloting a puddle jumper on his own. Granted it didn't involve a jump through the Stargate but he would take it just the same. He would be sure to do the Major and Dr. Weir proud.

Dr. Weir had just made the split second decision to ask Teyla to come back to Atlantis so that she could be present when she made the formal announcement to the team regarding the Major's health and his mental state. Yes...she had made up her mind right then and there. She would tell the team about John's physical condition and mental state.

As testament of the team's commitment to each other, the greeting cards she held in her hand influenced her decision to give a report to them the very next day whether she had the Major's approval or not. They deserved to know and to be a part of his healing process. She would let John know of her plans, of course, but she was determined to convince him that it would be in his best interest.


	16. Major Confusion

**A/N: Hello, everyone. OMG...I screwed up. I must apologize. I got my chapters mixed up. I have made the changes and Ch. 15, Discussions, is now in its proper place. If you haven't already caught on, please go back and read Ch. 15 (new material) and then reread Ch. 16. I had not edited Ch. 16, yet. I made some changes so it should flow a lot better now. Thanks for understanding. I suck at technology. It's pathetic...really! This is what happens when you get old.**

**Chapter 16: Major Confusion**

Dr. Beckett was more that a little apprehensive about inducing consciousness in Major Sheppard. He was concerned with potentially triggering another fatal episode. There was no discernible pattern to the occurrences and this gave the Doctor little comfort at the moment.

It was a risk he needed to take since the Major had not yet awakened on his own accord. He had a nurse and a technician on hand to assist him if any unforeseen surprises did crop up. Once they were all ready, Dr. Beckett placed a hand on the Major's shoulder and gave it a gentle shake while he firmly called out his name. "Major Sheppard. Wake up."

There was no immediate response. The Doctor gave the Major's shoulder another shake and continued to cajole him to wake up. After a few more moments, the Major showed some reaction moving his head from side to side. His breathing quickened and he slowly opened his eyes blinking a few times against the dry crystallized sleep in his eyes.

The Major shifted his eyes taking in his surroundings and tried in vain to recognize the faces now peering expectantly down at him. He recognized one of the faces but he wasn't too sure about the other two, one of which was smiling sweetly at him.

He addressed the face he was sure about. "Doc, is that you," he managed weakly. His throat was dry form disuse.

"Yes, Major, it's me," Dr. Beckett replied soothingly. The Doctor, noting what a difficult time the Major was having speaking, had the technician hand him a glass of water with a straw and offered it to the Major helping him negotiate a sip.

"Here, Major. Have some water. It will help you."

The Major was grateful for the liquid not exactly remembering when the last time it was he had last had a drink. The Major took some small sips through the straw at Dr. Beckett's suggestion but went into a fit of coughing despite his caution. The Doctor put the water aside and placed a calming hand on the Major's chest. "Easy now, take it easy Major."

Unfortunately, the spasms made the Major realize how much pain he was in and he groaned in response. "Are you in pain, Major?" The Doctor suspected he was but asked anyway.

The Major nodded in the affirmative. Finding his voice he said, "My chest...it hurts."

Just as the Doctor thought since the Major did have a bad encounter with a defibrillator. The Doctor reached up to the lever on the IV drip that would release pain easing medication. "There you go Major. The pain should subside in a few moments."

The Doctor now satisfied that the Major was not going to be triggered into another episode, dismissed the nurse and technician so that they could attend to their other duties. Dr. Beckett also felt some private time with the Major was in order in case he wanted to share his feelings.

Major Sheppard made an effort to remember where he was and how he got there. Confused, he finally asked, "Where am I?"

Doctor Beckett having anticipated that the Major might be confused, sat down on a stool he had brought with him, settling in to answer any questions his patient might have. "You're in the infirmary, Major."

"The infirmary?" John asked wrinkling his forehead.

"Yes...the infirmary. On Atlantis," the Doctor added in hopes the mention of the city would spark the Major's memory. This might turn out to be a long evening. "Do you remember anything prior to waking up?"

Major Sheppard shook his head 'no' and knitted his eyebrow still confused. "I can't remember anything." The Major said looking distressed.

Dr. Beckett didn't want to press John too hard. "That's alright, John. Take your time."

The Major's expression changed to that of realization. His eyes widened in sudden awareness of a memory. "Elizabeth...where's Elizabeth?" he asked the Doctor with deep concern in his voice.

"She's fine, John," Dr. Beckett soothed hoping to bloody hell that the Major didn't go into another episode.

"Did you find her? Did you get her back?" Agitated, the Major struggled to sit up.

The Doctor placed gentle hands on the Major's shoulders against his efforts and reiterated that Dr. Weir was alright. "Major, Dr. Weir's fine. She's here on Atlantis."

"No...no, they were hurting her," the Major insisted.

"No one was hurting her, John. She's been here on Atlantis all along. I can assure you, no one has hurt her."

"But I saw them..." the Major insisted, "I...I, saw them torture her." His voice was a combination of sorrow, helplessness, and regret.

"That was just a dream, John," the Doctor replied trying his best to be convincing.

"No...no dream. It was real. I was there. I saw it happen." The Major shook his head from side to side unconvinced. He was struggling to leap out of his hospital bed. Doctor Beckett had to hold him down at the shoulders. The Major was still fairly strong even in his weakened condition but the Doctor prevailed.

The Major relaxed back into the pillows defeated against the Doctors grasp mumbling, "...not a dream. It was real." He raised the butt of his hands to his face covering both of his eyes in an attempt to hold back tears of frustration.

Dr. Beckett felt sorry for his friend. He determined that the Major was probably disassociating from reality, confused about the weeks past events.

"John, listen to me." He took the Major's wrist in his hands and pulled them away from his eyes. "It's alright, you're safe now. Elizabeth is safe and unharmed. Neither of you were ever in any danger."

The Major, whose eyes had been shut tightly, opened them and looked at Dr. Beckett with clarity in his eyes, seeming to come to his senses. The Doctor released his grip on the Major's wrists when he noticed his patient's lucidity.

"Doc," he asked still a little confused. "What just happened?"

It had occurred to the Doctor just at that moment that in all of the mayhem over the past week, no one had bothered to explain what was happening to the Major or to bother to ask him if he understood what he was going through.

"First of all Major, I want you to know that you are safe in the infirmary. Second of all, understand that Dr. Weir is fine. You just had a very bad nightmare. Now, you had a bad encounter with a race of people called the Xenotites about a week ago and were badly injured. That's why you are in the infirmary now. Do you remember that?"

John nodded his head 'yes' and swallowing hard, turned his head away from the Doctor as the memories came flooding back. He was not particularly proud of that mission.

Dr. Beckett continued with his explanation reminding John of his operation, his first bad dream, and Dr. Weir's visits. He talked about this last dream, how it caused the Major to crash, and having nearly lost him for a second time.

At hearing this account, the Major looked at the Doctor with a pained expression on his face, now understanding why his chest had hurt so much when he came to. The Doctor recounted every detail figuring it would be best to be completely honest with the Major especially after what he had learned in his research. The Major soaked in all of this information in silence.

Once Dr. Beckett finished updating the Major, he asked, "Do you understand what's happening to you, lad?" Dr. Beckett's bedside manner was at its best. The Doctor felt it was time to have a candid talk with the Major concerning his mental state and what he was suffering from.

The Major indicated his lack of understanding by shaking his head 'no." He had that wounded puppy dog look on his face.

The Doctor continued with his analysis. "You are suffering from post-traumatic stress. It's common among military personnel that have been through traumatic experiences. Do you know what this condition entails?"

John shook his head 'yes' in understanding. He knew exactly what the Doctor was talking about. Several of his buddies who he had served with in Dessert Storm in the early nineties had suffered from it. Many of his colleagues had been medically discharged because of their inability to cope in a battlefield situation. It hadn't occurred to the Major that he was now afflicted with the very same thing.

Dr. Beckett continued. "This condition can last the rest of your life or it can remit spontaneously on its own leading to a full recovery. It depends on the extent of your traumatic experiences and your ability to cope with them. The stronger you get physically, the better you'll be able to shake off the post-traumatic stress. Are you with me so far?"

The Major shook his head 'yes' and to the Doctors relief, seemed to be much more alert and interested.

Encouraged, the Doctor continued. "Now the dreams you have been having are a result of your brain being triggered by the trauma. Dreams can seem very real. This has to do with memory which can be a tricky thing. From what we have learned so far about how cognition works, memories formed from dreams and memories formed from real experiences, are stored in the same area of the brain. There is a fine line between reality and dreams and the subconscious mind sometimes can't tell the difference between the two. There is so much we still don't understand about synaptic pathways and how they relate to the formation of memories. It's really quite fascinating. Are you still with me, lad?"

Another affirmative nod from the Major. The Doctor, now in his element continued animatedly. "So, when the nightmares are happening combined with a high level of emotional arousal, the intensity tends to overload the subconscious mind making the dream feel like reality. When a person with post-traumatic stress is highly stimulated by a nightmare or a bad memory, the subconscious mind sometimes overrides the conscious mind causing the victim to be triggered into what is known as an episode. In some instances, victims have been known to have moments of disassociation where the subconscious mind is in total command and have lost complete touch with reality."

The Doctor paused to allow the Major to digest this information. He could tell that the Major was processing and contemplating his explanation.

"Are you still with me, Major?"

"So....basically, I'm screwed," the Major surmised.

Dr. Beckett smiled at the Major's self-assessment of his condition. "Not necessarily, Major. There are ways that we can help you to recover quickly from this condition. There is no need to be concerned. In fact, its time we got you back on your feet. You have been cooped up in this bed for far too long. I would like to get you started you on some liquids and eventually some semi-solid foods. We also need to get your legs moving again. We'll start slow and small with some physical therapy exercises. Plus, I need to get you weaned off the pain medication before I get you addicted to it. I won't sugar coat it, Major. The physical and emotional healing process will take a few weeks so don't expect to walk out of here tomorrow."

The Major, once again, shook his head 'yes' having a clearer understanding of what he was up against.

"Okay Major, its time for you to rest. I'm afraid I have probably taxed you more than I should have this afternoon. Do you have any questions?"

"Doc, can I see Elizabeth?"

"You need your rest, John," the Doctor insisted.

"Just for a little while...I need to know that she's really okay."

Not seeing the harm in it and figuring it would help John in the long run, the Doctor agreed, "Alright, but just for a little while. Are you certain you're up to it?"

"Please...I really need to see her."

Dr. Beckett nodded his agreement. "I'll let her know you're awake."

"Thanks, Doc." The Major looked at him with appreciative eyes. He was glad for Dr. Beckett's honesty and for allowing him to visit with Elizabeth.

"Let me or the staff know if you need anything."

The Doctor went back to his office to comm Dr. Weir to let her know of the Major's request and what he found in his research. He was happy that the Major was somewhat accepting of his situation. Maybe now that the Major understood his condition, he would be more willing to accept the help of his teammates.

**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews. You are all way too kind. I also appreciate all your condolences and kind words.**


	17. Plans

**A/N:  Hello and thanks again for the wonderful and helpful reviews.  Life has been a bit hectic, lately, so I haven't been able to write as much as I'd like.  I hvae two more chapters in the works after this so I hope to post again very soon.  I enjoyed writing the Kavanagh smack down.   I'm hoping to fill some of the holes and questions you all have over the next two chapters.  I get real inspiration from your reviews especially when I feel stuck so bear with me if this gets a little boring and bogged down in details.**

**RaK:  Don't be embarrassed!  You are right.  I did mean to write BVD's.  That was a typo and you were the first to catch it!  Thanks.**

**Chapter 17: Plans**

Dr. Weir made it back to her quarters without further incident. She was still fuming from her encounter with Kavanagh leaving her with a bad taste in her mouth. She shouldn't have let him get to her. What nerve he had suggesting that Sgt. Bates take the Major's place. Entering her little piece of home, she sat at her desk and putting the cards down, put her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes with her fingers. It had been a long week and she was beginning to feel some effects of the wear.

Perhaps she was being too sensitive to the Major's situation. Maybe, just maybe, she was allowing her personal feelings to cloud her better judgment. She hoped that she hadn't worn her concerns on her sleeve for all of Atlantis to see.

How did she really feel about John? She certainly had respect for him and came to rely on his input. Was there something more to it than that? She could admit to herself that over the past few weeks, they had become what she would categorize as close friends. She had surprised herself by the reaction she had to his almost dying for a second time and how much more deeply it had hit home than the last time. It seemed like this was becoming routine with him.

Seeing the Major in such a vulnerable state tugged at her heart strings. Would she be able to gain back the ground she had made with him earlier in the week after this last episode, especially since the nightmare he had appeared to involve her?

Elizabeth was beginning to feel guilty and wondered if she hadn't been too hasty in sharing her personal experiences with him. She also felt guilty about sending Teyla away to her people so quickly. Teyla had shared the experience with the Major and she was probably the one person who was closest to understanding what he went through and might have helped the Major recover more quickly.

She hoped the Doctor had found some research that could help involve the team in the Major's treatment. The "what ifs" continued swirling around and around in her head beginning to weigh heavily on her conscious. Perhaps she should have involved Ford and McKay from the beginning and she prayed she had not made a mistake in shutting them out. She wondered how they would react to the news of the Major's bout with PTSD. She hoped the team would understand why she and the Doctor were hesitant in revealing the Major's abuse.

She looked at the homemade greeting cards on her desk. Perhaps they hold the key in convincing the Major to allow his friends to help him. She was formulating a plan in her mind holding an ace or two up her sleeve. Kavanaugh was becoming a problem. That should be enough to motivate her to get John back on his feet again.

That's it! Realization of how obvious the solution was suddenly hit her.  It was staring her right in the face. Yes, she should have no problem convincing the Major that he needed to get back into the swing of things.

With renewed determination, Dr. Weir set off to contact the team members, calling an emergency meeting for next day. She had a comm patched to Teyla on the mainland and asked her to be ready to be picked up by Ford in the morning. Teyla was more than willing to return to Atlantis stating how anxious she was to hear of the Major's condition and visit with him.

Dr. Weir then contacted Lt. Ford about the meeting and also officially informed him of being in charge of the team until the Major was able to return to duty. The young man was somewhat hesitant, at first, but Dr. Weir assured him it would be a temporary measure and that she would back him up. Suspecting that the young man felt he would be betraying his CO if he accepted, she reiterated her total confidence in the young officer. The Lieutenant accepted eagerly once convinced that this is what the Major would want.

Rodney was next to be contacted. He gave Dr. Weir some grief about it being about time that they were told something and that what did she think they were chopped liver? It would be like Rodney to use a food analogy. She finally convinced him that all would be revealed during the meeting and that she did not think of him as chopped liver but that mutton did cross her mind once or twice thinking of Rodney's girth. Dr. McKay was not amused insisting that they should have been involved from the beginning since they were a team or so he thought.

It was a full five minute before she was able to end her conversation with Rodney. As soon as she was off the comm, she received a hail from Dr. Beckett.

"Dr. Weir, it's me, Carson," a distinctive accent called.

"Is everything all right, Doctor?" Dr. Weir asked having learned to expect just about anything at this point.

"Everything's fine. In fact, I thought you'd like to know that the Major's awake and he's asking for you."

"How is he doing?"

"He had a wee bit of an episode, but he came out of it fairly quickly. He was convinced that you had been injured but I finally got him to understand that it was all a bad dream. I was able to calm him down enough to explain what was happening to him. He seems to have a good grasp of what he's up against."

"I'm glad to hear that, Doctor. May I visit with him now?"

"Of course and I also have the results of my research to share with you. It looks promising."

"Good to know. I'm anxious to hear what you found out. I'm on my way., Weir out." Dr. Weir was half way out of her quarters when she remembered the greeting cards and returned to retrieve them from her desk. She would be needing them.

* * *

Dr. Weir found the Doctor in his office. "You can go on back, Elizabeth. He's waiting for you," he said with a smile. 

Dr. Weir took notice of the Doctor's chirpiness and took that as a good sign. He seemed very pleased with himself. "Thank you, Doctor."

Feeling more optimistic herself, Dr. Weir headed in the direction of Major Sheppard's bedside. She smiled brightly as she approached his slumbering form. At least he _appeared_ to be snoozing. He looked peaceful again with his eyes closed and a relaxed look on his face. Elizabeth wasn't quite sure if she should disturb the Major and turned to go back to the Doctor's office.

Halfway through her turn a voice said, "Have a seat." It didn't belong to the Doctor. Elizabeth jumped about six inches out of her skin almost dropping the greeting cards.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked taken aback in a half scolding tone

Opening his eyes to just a slit, he answered, "I've learned a thing or two hanging out in the Air Force over the past few years."

"I'm sure you have developed some special skills, Major; however, I don't expect that you would use them on me." Dr. Weir sat on the stool that Dr. Beckett had occupied earlier in the day hoping that this would help slow her heart rate and get the flutters our of her stomach.

"Yes, ma'am," The Major drawled in mock respect. He smiled at Elizabeth a bemused, impish look on his face obviously pleased with his stealthy accomplishment.

"Well, I'm certainly glad to see you in a better mood," Elizabeth smirked back.

Major Sheppard suddenly sobered, "Actually...I was worried sick about you. At least, that is before I realized I was just having a bad dream."

"The Doctor told me you had another episode."

"I guess you already know that I almost bought the farm?"

"I'm so sorry, John. This must be very difficult for you. Every time you're in a life or death situation, a little piece of me goes through it with you."

"I don't know what I'd do if anyone ever hurt you. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I failed to protect you."

"John, I think you are internalizing this way too much."

"How can I internalize you're safety, the safety of Atlantis, too much?" He raised his voice in frustration.

Elizabeth was becoming aware of and concerned with how quickly the Major's moods were beginning to swing. "John, we're all in this together. The weight of our situation should not rest on your shoulders alone. We're a team and we all have a hand in running Atlantis and making it work."

The Major sat in silence for a few seconds digesting and mulling over Dr. Weir's impassioned words.

"I'm just..." He couldn't get the words out.

"Just what, John?"

"I just feel so...scared. I felt helpless and I couldn't do a damn thing to help you." He was starting to get agitated. It made Elizabeth wonder if she should go get the Doctor, fearing that John might be going into a disassociative state.

He finally seemed to snap out of it after a few tense seconds. "I just needed to make sure you were alright." He looked at Elizabeth hard, searching her face for something. Was it acceptance? Approval? Validation? Reciprocation of his feelings? Elizabeth couldn't quite tell.

She settled on reassurance, "I'm okay, John and thanks to you, so are many others. It was you that made the decision to bring the Athosians to safety. It's you that brings the team back in one piece. You're the bravest, most courageous, good-hearted person I've ever known. I always feel safe with you."

The Major seemed to accept Dr. Weir's words. No one else could make him feel at ease like she did, except maybe Lieutenant Ford or Teyla, most days. "I just don't like feeling so helpless and out of control."

"No one does. I feel that way every time you and the team step through the gate. It's a risk we have to take. It's what we're here for. We can't let fear stop us from moving forward." Dr. Weir hoped she didn't sound like she was lecturing.

"I know," John whispered.

"Dr. Beckett has a treatment plan in place to help you get back on your feet. It involves utilizing the team to assist with your rehabilitation and healing. But you're going to have to trust us."

John took in a breath and let it out shakily. "I don't now if I'm ready."

"I know that this is a very frightening time for you, but you need to know that you have our full support. Please let us help you."

"I want to, Elizabeth, more than anything but...I don't know, I just feel so...ashamed." There. He finally got it out. The problem had been identified.

"I know John. I wrestled with those same feelings after I was assaulted."

John looked at Elizabeth, compassion and identification etched in his features upon being reminded of her own ordeal. John swallowed hard. "I guess its going to take some time to sort this out."

"We'll get through this together, John" Dr. Weir remembered the greeting cards and thought this would be the ideal time to pull out one of her aces.

Offering them to the Major, she said, "By the way, these are for you."

"What are they?" the Major asked truly perplexed.

"Get well cards."

"Get well cards?" he mirrored now curious, reaching for the cards.

"Yes...from the team."

"The team?" he asked still a little confused.

This was starting to get old. "Yes...your team. Lt. Ford asked me to give them to you."

"Oh..." was all that the Major could manage this time.

"Go on, open them." Dr. Weir urged.

The Major took the first card form the top and ripped it open. There was a picture of a puddle jumper on the front obviously taken with a digital camera. Inside the card read:

                        "_These things don't fly themselves, you know. Get well soon!"_

It was signed by Lt. Ford. John chuckled despite himself at the obviously homemade sentiment. Dr. Weir observed the Major's face as it displayed curiosity, wonder, then of little of his old sense of humor, and finally a look of appreciation. The Major passed the card to Elizabeth as he went on to the next card.

The next one had a picture of Dr. Zelenka and two of his lab staff. Ford must have recruited them to join in on his little Hallmark moment. This card read:

_      "We heard you were under the weather. We hope this brightens your day. Get well soon!"_

John looked back at the picture and smiled. The last card had a picture of, of all things, McKay's lab. It read:

_            The lab we're behind in._

_            Project's are piling._

_            Your gene we could use._

_            For data compiling._

_            Get well soon!_

John rolled his eyes. He made a mental note to himself to remind McKay to keep out of the greeting card business and stick to astrophysics. He handed the card to Elizabeth. She read the card and snorted. Despite her attempts to contain herself, she started giggling. Her laugh was infectious and the Major, never able to resist her laughter, joined in.

After a good few seconds of laughing at the absurdity of McKay's get well card both finally managed to contain their mirth. The tension that had permeated the air a few minutes before had long since dissipated.

Elizabeth smiled widely at John who reflected the expression. "Now didn't that feel good?"

John had to shake his head in agreement. "It always feels good when you're with me." Elizabeth tilted her head in wonderment. She had never heard John say anything like that to her before. She took it as a sign of his progress.

Taking advantage of the good feelings, Elizabeth decided to tell him her plans. "John, I've called an emergency meeting for tomorrow with Dr. McKay, Lt. Ford, and Teyla to discuss your condition and how they can contribute to your treatment. I know you don't feel ready but its time we let them in on what's going on. We owe them that much."

"You're going to do it whether I agree or not, aren't you?" John wasn't angry he was just confirming what he already knew. Once Elizabeth made a decision, she rarely retracted it.

"Yes, John, I am."

"That doesn't mean I have to cooperate."

"No, it doesn't; however, it would be in your best interest."

"Yeah, my best interest," he stated a little defeated. John thought about Dr. Weir's proposal. He had a thought. "Is Teyla back on Atlantis"

"Not yet. Lt. Ford's picking her up tomorrow morning."

"Is she alright? I never got to see her since she was already gone when I woke up from surgery."

"She's doing very well. Being with her people did her a lot of good. I'm sorry you didn't get to see her right away. We thought about protecting you first before bombarding you with too many variables until we knew you were going to be okay. If anybody, she would have a greater understanding of what you have gone through."

"I'd like to see her."

"You will and she is anxious to help you."  Sensing that this was a good time to pull our her other ace, Dr. Weir continued,"...and John, there is one more thing you should know about.  I was confronted by Kavanagh this morning. Word is starting to get out about you, rumors actually. Anyway, he proposed that he and two other scientists feel that we should put someone else in charge of off-world activity and the military contingent on Atlantis until you are back in commission."

Major Sheppard's eyes went wide and then he knitted his eyebrows. "He did what? I don't believe that SOB. Who did he suggest you put in charge?"

"Sgt. Bates." If this didn't get a rise out of the Major, then Elizabeth didn't know what would. It seemed to be having the effect she was banking on. Was that the old Major Sheppard she knew and loved so well coming through?

"Bates? Bates?" he exclaimed raising his voice in sarcasm. You've got to be kidding me. Tell me you didn't put him in charge. You didn't dare put him in charge did you?"

"Well Major, Atlantis is vulnerable with you out of commission, right now," Elizabeth crooned.

"That tears it." The Major started moving aside the covers and tried to climb out of the hospital bed. This was having a way better effect than Dr. Weir had hoped for but wondered if she hadn't gone just a tad too far.

She placed a gentle hand on his chest. "Whoa...slow down cowboy. You aren't exactly in any shape to walk out of here, just yet. Relax Major, I placed  Lt. Ford in charge. I need Bates to remain head of security."

"Well...alright then. Make sure you have Markham and Stackhouse back him up," the Major strongly suggested.

"I'm sure Lt. Ford is going to need to consult with you and keep you abreast of operations while you're still out. I'm sure you will be wanting to meet with him on a regular basis."

"Yes...that would be good.  When do we start my physical therapy?" he asked a fire still burning in his golden green eyes. He wasn't that fond of Sgt. Bates and he was even less fond of Kavanagh. At least, he could trust Sgt. Bates but he wasn't going to leave Elizabeth and the whole of Atlantis in the hands of someone other than one of his team members who knew the drill.

"Is tomorrow too soon?"

"Not soon enough."

"Great, I guess that's settles it."

"Damn straight."

At that moment Dr. Beckett came by to remind Elizabeth that the Major needed his rest. He had heard the Major's outburst and also wanted to make sure he wasn't having another episode.

"I think we're all done here, Doctor," Elizabeth informed him. "I'll see you later, Major."

"Thank you." he fired.

"Don't mention it," Elizabeth returned.

With that, Elizabeth turned on her heels quite pleased with herself and satisfied with the outcome of her visit. She returned with Dr. Beckett to review his research and the treatment plan he had formulated. Dr. Weir was impressed with the Doctor's findings and trusting his instincts gave his treatment plan her final blessing.

The rest of the evening passed without any particular drama. The Doctor had each of the Major's IV's removed so that he could begin weaning him off of the pain medication and start him on his liquid diet. The Major continued fussing about Kavanagh to the Doctor and wondered out loud who the scientist thought he was. Doctor Beckett merely chuckled at his agitation. At least he wasn't having an episode and Dr. Beckett was happy to see some of the Major getting some of his fighting spirit back.

He had to hand it to Elizabeth. She was masterful at getting a rise out of the Major. He hoped like hell that it stuck this time starting him on a more permanent road to recovery.


	18. The Team Gets the News

**A/N:  Thanks again to my reviewers and hanging in there with me.  This chapter should fill some holes.  Its not my best but I promise the next two will be better.**

**Disclaimer:  Remember, I don't own any of the Stargate Atlantis characters and this is stricly for R and R.  No profits are being made.**

**Chapter 18: The Team Gets the News**

It was the start of a new work week on Atlantis. The city was bustling with activity after a quiet, uneventful weekend. In the jumper bay, Lt. Ford was going over his final checks of Puddle Jumper 1. It was 0800 hours and he would be off shortly to pick up Teyla on the mainland. He was fondly remembering the time when the Major had decided on the name for the small shuttles chastising the Lieutenant good-naturedly over his choice of an identifier.

After completing external checks of the innocuous shuttle, the Lieutenant ran his pre-flight checks on the navigation system making sure all was in order. Once satisfied, he asked for clearance to disembark which was granted by Dr. Weir. The trip to the mainland was amooth and Lt. Ford traveled the entire time with a gleeful grin on his face like a little kid eating an ice cream for the first time..

Teyla was patiently waiting for the Lieutenant to land and after unloading a few supplies to the Athosian people and in return loading a few of the wild indigenous fruits Teyla's people had found in abundance, they were off.

The Lt. beamed at Teyla as they set a course back to Atlantis.. Teyla, picking up on the Lieutenants pleasure asked, "Lt. Ford, is this not the first time you pilot a puddle jumper without the assistance of the Major."

"Yes, siree," Ford affirmed.

"I'm sure that Major would be very proud of you."

"Yes, ma'am, I would like to think he is."

Teyla smiled at the young man. "You are doing a fine job, Lieutenant."

There were a few moments of silence between them as the Lieutenant concentrated on his driving. Teyla finally broke the silence, "Lieutenant, what of Major  Sheppard? Is he well?"

"Well, to be honest, none of us except for Dr. Weir and Dr. Beckett has been able to see him. From what Dr. Weir tells us, he's doing fine. They've been locked up tight about the Major's condition all week, though."

"It is strange that they would be so secretive. He was tortured very badly and perhaps there were complications that they chose not to reveal right away. While I was happy to visit with my people, I also thought it strange that I was not allowed to visit with the Major."

"I guess we'll find out more about it in the meeting today. How are you holding up?" the young man asked remembering that Teyla was also a victim.

"I am completely healed. My people have a resilience about them, a trait we have developed over millennia of battling with the Wraith, allowing us to heal quickly."

"That must come in handy," Lt. Ford quipped. Teyla nodded her head at him in confirmation.

They were quickly approaching the city as the tall spires came into view dwarfing the jumper as it made its way back into its perch. The Lieutenant expertly landed the ship and escorted Teyla to the debriefing room. Dr. Weir and Dr. Beckett, had just arrived a few minutes earlier and were waiting for them and Dr. McKay to arrive who came in just after Lt. Ford and Teyla. They all took their seats joining Dr. Weir and Dr. Beckett at the sleek triangular table in the Ancient meeting room.

Dr. Weir opened the meeting. "I would like to thank you for all being here today. As you know, the Major has been in the infirmary over the past week. First of all, I would like to apologize for not disclosing information about Major Sheppard's condition to you right away. Dr. Beckett and I agreed that we would keep information limited until we could assess not only the Major's physical condition, but his mental condition, as well. We were not as worried about his physical wounds as we were about his mental state. The Doctor and I will be happy to answer any questions you might have and I will now turn it over to Dr. Beckett for further explanation."

"Thank you, Dr. Weir. As you know, the Major was the victim of severe torture techniques. He had several wounds including broken ribs, some light burns, and a slight concussion. The Major also suffered internal bleeding and we had to perform an operation to stop the hemorrhaging. He was beaten severely and unfortunately has some emotional scars to show for his ordeal."

The team was listening quietly at this revelation. While Teyla knew that the Major had endured agonizing pain, she, like the others, had not been aware of the extent of his wounds including the internal bleeding and the fact that the Major was having a difficult time dealing with their shared tribulation.

The Doctor continued. "Physically, the Major is recovering very well; however, mentally, that's a different story altogether. He is having a wee bit of a problem with post-traumatic stress. This is not uncommon for someone who has been through the horrors that the Major had to endure."

Lt. Ford and Dr. McKay nodded their understanding but Teyla tilted her head questioningly. "Dr. Beckett," Teyla interjected, "I am not familiar with this post-traumatic stress."

"Of course, let me explain. It would be equivalent to the stress and nightmares your people might have suffered after a bad Wraith attack."

"Ah..." Teyla's eyes widened and her chin dipped in understanding.

Lt. Ford jumped in with his own personal experience. "My uncle had that after he came back from the Gulf War. He couldn't hear a loud noise without flinching. As much as he tried he couldn't keep from being jumpy."

"Did you uncle eventually get over it?" Dr. Weir asked the Lieutenant.

"Pretty much, I mean he wasn't messed up or anything. Just at first but he's okay now. Just...jumpy."

"Yes...I'm familiar with the phenomena. What can we do to help?" Rodney asked concerned for his friend.

"That's what I'm getting to, Rodney. I just wanted to make sure everyone knew what this condition entailed. Now, the Major has been having what we call episodes. They are often disassociative moments triggered by a nightmare or bad memory. The Major is going to need emotional support and to rebuild his basic trust in others. The best way we have found to do this is through group therapy and family support. Now, we don't exactly have a support group readily available, so what we are going to propose is that you act as his surrogate family. You have been working as a team for several months and should have the proper bonds in place."

The Doctor paused for a few seconds to let the team members absorb this information. Teyla was the first to speak. "Among our people, we have a tradition, that when someone loses all of their family members, he is adopted by another family. This was the only way we could survive when so many of our numbers were decimated by the Wraith. I believe this is why my people share such closeness."

"Its like when I grew up with all my aunties and my grandmother," Lt. Ford added. "We considered close friends of our family as extended family. I had to listen to my aunties and their friends as if they were my mom."

"That's exactly what I mean," the Doctor affirmed. "Now Dr. Weir has been working with the Major and he seems to be coming around and ready for visitors. We have devised a holistic treatment plan that will provide for both his physical therapy and emotional support simultaneously. We are going to start slow with some simple exercises and daily living skills that will also work to build his trust."

The Doctor passed out his plan with each of the team member's assignments. He briefly reviewed the week's activities and asked if everyone understood what they needed to do. There were head nods all around.

"No problem, Doc. I had to help my grandmother when she broke her hip and had it replaced. I learned a lot from her physical therapist and I had to help her get around after she got out of the hospital."

"How about you, Rodney?" the Doctor asked.

"Hmm...yes...my father went through physical therapy after he suffered a stroke." Rodney had been unusually quiet, preoccupied and lost in his own memories.

"It's settled, then. We start tomorrow morning."

"One moment, Doctor," it was Teyla wanting to voice a concern after reviewing her assignments. "Why is it that I only attend to the Major's personal needs?"

"Ah, yes. The reason for that is because you went through the experience with the Major and he would trust you with the more intimate life skill activities the most. You can by all means help with the physical therapy but he's going to need someone that he can trust from the get go. You would be the best person to identify with what he's been through. Besides, he's been asking for you and is anxious to see you."

This brought a smile to Teyla's face. "I understand, Doctor."

Dr. Weir added on more detail. "If the Major does lapse into an episode while you are working with him, please call the Doctor, someone from the medical staff, or myself right away. If no one is available, then do your best to calm the Major down and keep reassuring him he is safe. There is also one other thing you should be made aware of. Major Sheppard suffered an episode that caused him to go into cardiac arrest and we almost lost him. We don't anticipate this occurring again, but you need to be aware of the extreme effects post-traumatic stress can have."

There were surprised looks around the table and Teyla, Rodney, and the Lieutenant exchanged alarmed glances.

At hearing this latest revelation, Rodney spoke up being the voice of the team's anger as he usually is. "What exactly did these people do to him? What kind of monsters, other than the Wraith, would do this to another human being?" Rodney knew that torture was a method utilized by many a dictator on Earth but his anger at seeing his friend suffering was overtaking him at the moment. Respecting Rodney's space, the group allowed him to vent his ire.

"Teyla and the Major were on a diplomatic mission to build bridges and save these people from a surprise attack by the Wraith and this is how they were treated in return," Dr. McKay raved.

Dr. Beckett realized that Rodney's outburst would be good for not only for the Major, but for the team, as well, and allowed him to vent. He understood that they would have to process this unhappy occurrence happening to one of their own.

"...And who do you think the two of you are keeping this from us?" He was now turning his anger on Dr. Weir and Dr. Beckett. "Didn't you think for one minute about our feelings?"

Dr. Weir hadn't heard Rodney get this agitated since the puddle jumper had been stuck in the Stargate. "Rodney," she said gently but firmly. "I understand you're upset by the way we handled this. It may not have been the best way, but we had a duty to protect the Major first and foremost. You need to know that he felt too ashamed to face any of you. He feels that he has somehow failed all of you."

"Well, that's ridiculous. Why would he think that? It wasn't his fault that these people decided to go postal on him and Teyla. Doesn't he know what a value and asset he's been to the team."

It was Dr. Beckett's turn to intervene. "Rodney, he's going to need your total support. If you have any doubt in your mind about your participation in his rehabilitation, you need to let me know now. He needs for you to be there for him without judgment. I won't let you near him if you think you can't manage that."

Dr. McKay's features suddenly softened and, a little flustered, muttered an apology. "I'm sorry. Of course I want to be supportive. It's just that...well...I hate to see him like this and I've been worried sick about him."

"Hey, Dr. McKay, I think he knows that," Lt. Ford pointed out. "I'm sure he appreciated our get well cards. Am I right, Dr. Weir?"

"You are absolutely correct, Lieutenant," she confirmed. "In fact, I think he liked your card the best, Rodney." She didn't exactly lie to the upset scientist.

"The Lieutenant and Dr. Weir are correct. I'm sure the Major knows how deeply we care for him," Teyla added.

Dr. Weir decided that it was probably time to take the discussion in a different direction. "Teyla, we haven't properly debriefed on this mission. I'm afraid with all of the fuss over the Major we haven't had a chance to find out what actually happened. Would you mind telling us what went wrong with the Xenotites? The Major hasn't been willing to discuss the mission and it would help us to better understand how to assist in his healing."

"Of course, Dr. Weir," Teyla began her story with her and the Major's arrival and meeting with the Xenotite Grand Council.

"The Council members were very welcoming and hospitable. Each seemed excited with the prospect of trading information and resources. The Major and I explained to them how we had come to inhabit the Ancient City. The Council members were amazed that Atlantis was operational again and expressed how formidable it could once again be in the fight against the Wraith."

"This was the most technologically advanced race that we had encountered, so far, that were capable of interstellar travel within the Pegasus galaxy. They appeared to possess the most advanced weaponry of the races that I am aware of among the worlds in this galaxy."

Teyla paused for a moment peering at the faces around her, gauging their reactions and then continued. She found that each was listening attentively. "The discussion quickly turned to the Wraith since the Major thought it only fair that we give them warning of their awakening. When he spoke of how your people had been responsible for this, the Council members understandably grew concerned. Reacting out of fear and anger, some of the members called for our incarceration seeing the awakening of the Wraith as a direct affront to their society. The Major and I attempted to further explain, but we were taken to their prison without being allowed to speak further."

"They had begun their interrogation with me; however, I was able to explain that my people were also affected by the awakening of the Wraith. Upon understanding this they quickly turned their complete attention on the Major considering my people victims like them. I was returned to the prison cell. I could hear the Major's screams as the interrogation turned to torture. I had not intended for them to turn their wrath on the Major." Teyla sounded anxious wanting to make sure the group understood her intentions.

Teyla again paused to allow her colleagues to absorb this new information. She locked apprehensive eyes with Dr. Weir who encouraged her to continue. "I know this is difficult, Teyla, but please continue."

"After a short amount of time, I was visited by one of the kindly Council members who represented a part of a faction who didn't agree with how we were being treated. I was able to further explain to her how the Major and your people took my people in and brought us to safety on Atlantis. That the awakening of the Wraith was not intended and occurred out of ignorance since your people were new to the galaxy and knew nothing of these evil beings. I explained how my people had aligned with yours and that our primary mission was to seek ways to protect ourselves and other worlds from the threat of the Wraith."

"Seeing the logic in my words, the Council member conferred with her colleagues and fought to have us released but not after the damage had already been done to Major Sheppard." There was sadness in Teyla's eyes as she recalled the shock of seeing the mostly naked form of the Major for the first time after he had been beaten nearly to death. She could only imagine what horrible things they had done to him. "We were escorted back to the Stargate and allowed to return to Atlantis on the condition that we never return or contact their people ever again."

"Teyla," Dr. Weir began in her business tone, "do you believe that the Xenotites can be a threat to us in the future?"

"I do not believe so, Dr. Weir. I would not be quick to judge these people on the bad actions of a few. They reacted out of shock and the possibility of the Wraith returning to their world. I do not sense that they would be a threat to Atlantis."

"Very well, thank you Teyla for your report. Does anyone have any questions for Teyla?"

Rodney spoke up ever thinking of power sources. "When you say technologically advanced, what types of weapons do they have? Are they comparable to ours or more advanced?"

"They are capable of interstellar travel; however, the lethality of their weaponry is comparable to what your people already have and what is available to us on Atlantis."

"What are you driving at, Rodney?" Dr. Weir interjected.

"Nothing really, I just thought that we might consider reopening negotiations if there is a chance of obtaining ZPM technology."

"Absolutely not," Dr. Weir shot back. "Haven't you been listening? Weren't you just a minute ago angry about how the Major was treated."

"Yes, yes, yes, I realize that, but Teyla just said that we should not judge these people too harshly. If there is a chance of trading technological knowledge, then maybe we should just keep it in the back of our minds."

"Noted, but I don't think they would want to be hearing form us too soon. Consider the topic closed for now." Sensing the group's restlessness, Dr. Weir facilitated the meeting in another direction.

"There is one other detail that you all need to be aware of. Rumors of the Major's situation are beginning to make their way around the base. I was confronted by Dr. Kavanagh yesterday morning and he suggested that we replace the Major while he is out of commission. I understand his concern and I've decided to appoint Lt. Ford as interim commander until the Major is back on his feet again. If anyone has any concerns or objectives about the leadership of the team, please voice them now."

Teyla was the first to speak up, "I believe that the Lieutenant is very capable of commanding in Major Sheppard's stead. I will support him in any way necessary."

"Thank you, Teyla. Rodney, how do you feel about this?"

"It's fine by me. I actually had a run-in with Kavanagh myself in the mess hall the other day. Even though he's a fellow scientist he was really starting to grate on my nerves. He was going on about how the Major needed to be replaced and he made the absurd suggestion that Sgt. Bates would be the ideal candidate. I agree that Lt. Ford is the obvious choice. He knows how we operate and is aware of our needs. Although I'm sure Sgt. Bates could do a fine job, Lt. Ford knows us best."

"Fine, it's settled then. You all have your assignments. Keep in mind that none of this is set in stone and if you have any suggestions, the Doctor and I will be happy to hear them. If there are no other questions or concerns to bring to the table then I call this meeting adjourned."


	19. Teyla Gets First Crack

**Chapter 19: Teyla Gets First Crack**

Teyla Emmagan was very excited at the prospect of doing her part to help the Major get better. She was very much looking forward to seeing him after being away for a week. She herself had recovered well from the injuries she suffered at the hands of the Xenotites.

Teyla was to be the first team member to meet with the Major. The Doctor felt that the presence of someone who had shared part of his experience would help build trust and set the stage for Dr. McKay and Lt. Ford to come in and assist the Major at a later time. They had finally convinced the Major that it was not a sign of weakness to seek help, especially of those he cared for and who retuned that care, but a sign of inner strength and resolve.

Teyla accompanied Dr. Beckett back to the infirmary after the meeting. Dr. Beckett showed her to the Major's hospital bed. He was alert and seemed to be in good spirits having rested well the night before without any sort of episode. His spirits were about to be lifted even higher. He had been told that Teyla would be joining him today and he wanted to be on his best behavior. He was looking forward to seeing her again.

The Major spotted two figures approaching his bedside. The first was dressed in a familiar white lab coat and the second figure...well what could he say, he'd recognize that mane of long copper hair a mile away. He excitedly called out her name, "Teyla!"

Teyla, upon hearing the Major's voice lit up with a bright smile, that same sweet smile John recognized from the first time they had ever met. "Major Sheppard." Teyla quickened her pace and threw her arms around the Major's neck as he returned her embrace wrapping his arms around her. Sobering, Teyla pulled back and rested her forehead placing her hands on the Major's shoulders in the traditional Athosian greeting that could have a variety of meanings depending on the situation. In this case, she meant it to mean relief that the Major was well. It also conveyed how much she had missed him.

After a few long moments, Teyla pulled away and took in a deep breath of relief. "Major, it is good to see you. I have missed you greatly."

"I missed you, too," the Major replied. "How are you? Are you okay? Let me look you over," he expressed anxiously ever concerned for his fellow team members.

Not wanting him to fuss over her so much, she reassured, "I am well, Major Sheppard. My stay with my people has been rejuvenating."

Satisfied, the Major relaxed. "So...I understand you're here to help me with my rehabilitation?" he asked through raised eyebrows.

"That is correct," Teyla confirmed glancing at the Doctor momentarily who nodded his agreement.

"We're going to start you off with some liquids and then move on to some light physical therapy," Dr. Beckett interjected.

"Lovely..." John quipped, "...can't wait. My own little private Club Med," he smiled sardonically. He could only imagine what the Doctor had in store for him.

Dr. Beckett excused himself to go have the Major's lunch sent over with a technician. Teyla and John caught up with what Halling and Jinto had been up to lately and chatted about how her people were adjusting to living on the mainland. She also told him in on the wild, delicious fruit her people had discovered. The technician finally arrived with a tray of food and Teyla prepared to help the Major to eat his first close to real meal in over a week.

"I hope you're hungry?" Teyla inquired.

"I'm starving." The major was not entirely lying since the Dr. had removed the IV that was sustaining his vital nutrition the evening before and he had the sensation of hunger for the first time this afternoon. He was anxious to see what they had brought him to eat.

Teyla set the tray of food on a valet in front of the Major. It consisted of a simple bowl of tomato bisque soup. Not exactly the Major's favorite but it would do. It sure beat the protein drinks.

Teyla took a napkin and tucking it under the Major's chin, neatly placed it over his hospital gown. She fed him a couple of spoonfuls and then allowed him to feed himself as the Doctor had directed in his instructions. This would give the Major a sense of autonomy and power over his environment and at the same time, get him to exercise and use his arms.

"How is the soup, Major?" Teyla asked making light conversation as she had been instructed.

"Just lovely, tasty, what is there to say about MRE's? Do we have any salt or pepper around?"

"Unfortunately, we do not. I can go and get some."

"NO!" the Major practically yelled but them immediately softened. "I mean, no, don't go. Please stay. It seems like forever since I last saw you and I don't want to waste a minute on you going to get something as trivial as salt."

Teyla thought this would be a good time to turn the conversation to other topics. She learned from Dr. Beckett that she should get him to talk about his part of their shared experience as soon as possible.

"I would much rather remain here and speak with you, as well," Teyla beamed. She paused a few minutes reveling in their peaceful visit. The Major was nearly finished with his soup and Teyla was glad at how eagerly he had eaten the nourishing sustenance.

"We learned of your condition at our staff meeting this morning," she started as she removed the valet and repositioned herself on the stool by the Major's bed. The Doctor revealed that you are suffering from post-traumatic stress. I am very familiar with this among my own people who have suffered from this with the Wraith attacks."

"Did he tell you that I'm a basket case?" The Major said this not without some slight disdain for himself in his voice.

Teyla not familiar with the term 'basket case' asked the Major to clarify. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"It's an Earth expression...never mind. It just means that I'm not altogether there."

"Major, I truly don't believe that to be the case. You are here now having conversation with me and eating your meal by your own accord. I do not envision you as hopeless."

This seemed to placate the Major somewhat and he flashed Teyla a slight grin as she made him feel comfortable in that magical, earthy way she had about her.

Teyla, taking note of his acceptance of her words, thought this a good time to pry deeper into his memories. "Major, what happened during the time we were apart in the Xenotite prison? I had been taken to our prison cell and I was extremely disturbed by your screams and shouts. I was frightened for you and was very relieved when they let us go." Teyla tried to be as gentle in her probing as possible trying to choose her words carefully.

The Major winced and made a face at the woman's words. He wasn't exactly ready to talk about this topic. God, she could be direct, but he guessed that she did deserve to know since she literally saved his skin.

"It was horrible, Teyla," the Major shook his head back and forth, his eyes with a distant look in them. "They started off with punching, hitting, and kicking the crap out of me. I tried to resist as long as I could. I tried doing math problems which worked for a while but when they got that damned prod thing out, I...I just about lost it." The Major paused quietly contemplating his memories.

"I think the worst part of it was hearing you scream." The Major looked towards the olive skinned woman who locked concerned eyes with his. He had a lone tear just about ready to fall from one of his eyes. "There was nothing I could do to help you and I had never felt so helpless in my life. I was relieved when you stopped screaming but then I thought that maybe you had passed out, or worse, had been killed." The tears were falling much more freely now.

Teyla took the Major's hand and held it tightly in hers. "I'm sorry, Major, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable," she quickly apologized.

The Major, noticing the distressed look on his friend's face, tried to compose himself wiping the tears from his eyes and face. He certainly didn't want to make Teyla feel worse than she already had for him. "Hey...its okay, I've been talking to Dr. Weir about it. I'm going to be fine." He made a weak attempt to smooth things over and lighten the mood.

Teyla catching on to his efforts followed along and put a gentle hand on the Major's shoulder. "We are going to help you recover, Major. I am here to assist you in any way. Please know that you can talk to me about anything in total confidence. Know that I am available whenever you need to share your thoughts."

The Major had no doubt about the woman's sincerity. "You will be the first to know if and when I'm ready to share my feelings."

"Major," Teyla started, "you have nothing to be ashamed of." She squeezed his hand again. She felt that she had to add this last bit sensing that he did feel ashamed of what happened to them and his inability to take control of the situation. There was that word 'ashamed' again. The Major wasn't ready to admit to Teyla that this was how he truly felt.

He was saved from having to say anything more as Dr. Beckett had discretely come into the infirmary waiting for the appropriate time to step in. "I'm sorry lass," he addressed Teyla. "I'm going to have to limit your time. The Major needs his rest."

"Aw...does she have to go so soon?" the Major protested in a mocking, whining tone.

"I'm afraid so, John. She'll be back in the morning to help you with your breakfast and other things."

The Major wondered what the 'other things' could be but not wanting to press the issue further said his goodbyes to Teyla. They lingered in a relieved embrace and finally tore away from each other reluctantly. The Major was happy that he got to see Teyla for at least a little while and he did feel much better after sharing his thoughts with her. He was already looking forward to the morning.


	20. Teyla's Next Visit

**A/N:  Okay all of you Teyla/Shep fans, this chapter's for you.  Enjoy Madame Hardy!  This is my favorite chapter so far and my husband loves it.  Hmm...read on and discover why.**

**Chapter 20: Teyla's Next Visit**

The next morning, the Major was presented with a bowl of... "_Oatmeal?_" the Major exclaimed staring in disbelief at the gooey substance. "Oatmeal?" he repeated with pure disgust. "Do you have any idea what oatmeal does to me."

Teyla couldn't resist a grin at the Major's objections. "I'm sure Dr. Beckett wouldn't have approved of it if he did not think it would be of benefit to you."

The Major made a contentious face. He really didn't want to give her a hard time and be a bad patient but..._oatmeal_? Why couldn't it have been watery eggs or something...anything else. Even liquefied bacon would have been better.

Teyla was loading up a spoon with the bland cereal. She was going to help the Major eat the first couple of spoonfuls as she had done with the soup and then allow him to finish the rest on his own.

"All right, Major, open wide." The Major did what he was asked and made a less than amused face. At least someone had the decency to put sugar in it and add a little butter and cream.

"There you go Major. That wasn't so bad, was it? Now you must eat the rest yourself so that you may regain the strength in your arms. I must retrieve some more supplies. I want to see all of that gone by the time I return."

"Yes, ma'am," John replied in an exaggerated tone of respect.

After a few minutes, Teyla came back pushing a cart loaded with a plastic cylindrical container of what looked like soapy water, a body sponge, and several towels.

The Major, having finished his oatmeal placed the empty bowel on the valet, and looked suspiciously at Teyla and the contents on the cart. "Teyla...what's that for?" he questioned cautiously.

"This is for your bath," Teyla simply replied.

"Bath?"

"Yes, I have been assigned to give you your baths."

The Major was struck speechless for just a moment a look of mild shock on his face, eyes wide open. "Excuse me?" he finally managed to eek out.

"I am to help you wash until you can do it for yourself."

Was this some sick joke of the Docs? "Oh, no...no way! Not only no, but hell no," the Major stammered out.

"But Major Sheppard, it is necessary," Teyla argued back.

"Isn't the nurse supposed to do this?" With the nurse there was a sense of 'clinicalness' but with Teyla...? That was way too intimate for his taste.

"The nurse is not available this morning and besides there aren't enough personnel to assist in your care so I agreed to help."

The Major, now slightly embarrassed continued to resist. "I really don't think this is such a good idea. Dr. Beckett!" he called trying to enlist the Doctor's help. "Dr. Beckett!" There had to be some sort of mix-up.

"Please, Major Sheppard. You are not embarrassed, are you?"

"Well...you have to understand that among our people, a bath is a very private matter," he stumbled trying to find the right words.

"Major, it is not as though I have not known a man before."

_TMI_... that was way too much information. The Major proceeded to turn various shades of pink and red. He liked Teyla well enough. Actually, probably more than he should.

"As a leader of my people, I have had to assist with the care of the ill and infirmed. This is nothing new to me."

"I didn't mean to offend you it's just that..." That he liked Teyla wasn't making this any easier.

Before John could find the words to complete his protest, Dr. Beckett came over to see what the commotion was about. Teyla seeing the Doctor approach shot an accusing glance at the Major and reported, "He is not being very cooperative."

"Now, now, Major. Am I going to have to give you a sedative just so that you can have your bath?" Seeing that he wasn't going to get any support from the Doctor, this was going from bad to worse very quickly for the Major.

"Okay, okay," John acquiesced, "you don't have to sedate me."

"Now that's a good patient," Dr. Beckett ribbed. "Let me know if you need anything, lass," he reminded Teyla as he left giving them some privacy and laughing inwardly to himself.

"Thank you, Doctor," Teyla replied as she started to reach behind the Major's neck to unfasten and the Major's hospital gown. Not expecting this, the Major raised his hands in self-defense.

"Ah...I think I can do that myself." He unfastened the gown and making sure he had the sheet pulled up over his chest, slipped the gown out form beneath the covers. Teyla took it and disposed of it on the lower shelf of the cart.

She reached for a towel and proceeded to position it underneath the Major's shoulder and side to catch any excess water that dripped during the bath. The Major watched apprehensively as Teyla dipped the body sponge in the container of soapy water making small splashing noises as she wrung out the excess water.

Teyla began with one of the Major's arms. She took his hand and somehow managed to simultaneously wash and massage the muscles on each finger. She slowly moved up his forearm making small, deliberate circular movements. She eased her way past his elbow and up to his shoulder.

The Major made every bad face in his repertoire feeling very uncomfortable as Teyla made her way up his neck refreshing the sponge in the soapy water every so often. She dried off his arm and proceeded to the other side. By the time she had completed washing his other arm, the Major was beginning to relax into her soothing touch and the warmth of the water followed by being patted dry with a fluffy towel.

Teyla began to hum a sweet Athosian lullaby. It was a haunting tune, one that the Major had remember hearing her sing to the children their first night here on Atlantis to soothe their fears. It was now, in turn, having a soothing effect on him.

The Major closed his eyes as Teyla gently washed his face being careful of the bruises that were now only slightly visible. She gave him a small towel to dry himself off as she dipped the sponge for her next pass.

Teyla deftly made her way down the Major's upper chest. She was making the same small circular massaging movements with the sponge. The Major hadn't realized how sore his muscles felt. Somehow, Teyla seemed to put more into her efforts than the nurse did. She was definitely skillful. He could definitely get used to this.

She made her way down over his ribs being careful of the bruised ones, to his upper abdomen, and then down to his lower abdomen finally drying him off with the towel. She immediately covered his upper body with the sheet so that he didn't catch cold.

Teyla made her way down to the Major's legs. She started to hum another lullaby that the Major didn't recognize. He was content in listening to her hum rather than having a conversation. Teyla uncovered one of the Major's legs and discreetly tucked the sheet around his lower torso much like a massage therapist would do. She positioned a towel under his leg to once again catch the excess liquid.

She began with his upper thigh, doing the same washing and manipulating of his muscles as before. She took notice of how well toned and defined he was. She could appreciate what a good specimen of a man he was. She made her way down over his knee to his calf, ankle, and finally washed his foot. She noticed how perfectly even his toes were and how high his arches were. In her culture, this would be a sign of a man's stability and leadership qualities. Two qualities she had always admired about he Major. She repeated the same procedure on his other leg.

She glanced back at the Major whose eyes were halfway closed and gave him a sweet smile. Gone was the man who earlier was protesting his bath to be replaced by a very relaxed, content, gentleman. The Major rewarded Teyla with a small contented grin.

Teyla had the Major roll over on his side intending to lightly scrub his back. She stopped humming, taken aback by what she found. She frowned and was saddened by the scars and remaining bruises the Major still showed from his ordeal with the Xenotites.

The Major was so relaxed that he was just about dozing off and almost didn't hear Teyla calling out to him. "Major Sheppard?"

"Hmph...?"

"Major, please let me know if the water feels unpleasant on your back"

"...'kay," the Major managed.

Teyla continued with the bath being sure to dab rather than rub the Major's back. She did not want to disturb the bruises and soreness that still remained. The Major had snuggled down into his pillow and Teyla was relieved when he did not indicate any discomfort.

Teyla continued down to the Major's backside. She couldn't help but notice the redness and irritation she found there. She wrung out the sponge and began to carefully dab at this tender area. The Major flinched at her touch, abruptly coming out of his relaxed state. His breathing quickened, coming in small gasps and it was all he could do to keep form going into all out panic mode.

'_Its okay, its just Teyla,'_ he reminded himself as he tried to get his breathing under control. He had a death grip on his pillow.

Teyla, taking notice of the Major's distress immediately stopped what she was doing. The Doctor had warned that he may have moments such as this. Growing concerned to his reaction she asked, "Are you unwell, Major Sheppard."

"I'm alright. I just had a bad...memory."

Teyla quickly dried the Major's posterior and covered him with the sheet. "I'm sorry, Major, I did not mean to cause you any discomfort."

"I know. Its okay, Teyla, I know you didn't mean it," he half whispered now much more composed.

She helped him roll over onto his back. "I would never do anything to cause you any harm," she assured him placing a gentle hand on his chest and brushing his cheek with her hand.

"I know," he said looking into her concerned face. He really didn't like to see her looking so sad.

"Are you finished already? That was quick." The Major tried to lighten the mood. Up to that point, he really was enjoying the Athosian version of a bath.

"Actually, Major," Teyla smiled her sweet smile, "we are not quite finished. There is one remaining area left on your body that needs to be washed."

"Really...gosh, I could have sworn you got everything," John said beginning to feel a little embarrassed again knowing exactly what she was alluding to.

"You can either wash yourself, or you can allow me to do it for you," Teyla suggested.

"Ah...yeah, I believe I can muster up enough energy to do it myself. Sure...okay," the Major stammered.

Teyla gave him a knowing grin and handed the Major the soft body sponge. "Here you go, Major. You will be needing this."

Major Sheppard took the sponge hesitantly. "Would you mind turning around?"

Teyla stopped grinning and tilting her head gave the Major a perplexed look. Sometimes he could be so...mysterious.

"I just need a little privacy."

Teyla nodded her head in understanding. "Ah..." she said as she fulfilled the Major's request.

The Major quickly performed his ritual. "Umm...can I have a towel, please?"

Teyla figuring the Major probably still didn't want her to turn around took a towel off the cart and passed it back over her shoulder to him. The Major yanked the towel from her hand and quickly dried himself off under the sheet.

"All done," he reported.

Teyla took that as her cue to turn back around and relieved the Major of the sponge and towel placing them back on the cart. She handed the Major a clean hospital gown and helped him fasten it around his neck while he tucked it under the sheets.

Teyla grew serious. "Major Sheppard, what exactly did your torturers do to you?" Teyla asked in a stern voice even though she suspected exactly what the redness she found was all about. "They did more than simply beat you did they not?" Her voice was laced with anger now.

The Major figured what she found would be a dead give-away. He was starting to perspire and was extremely reluctant to tell Teyla about the abuse. He just couldn't bring himself to talk about it. Not even with Elizabeth and the Doc even though they knew what he had gone through.

"I...I can't talk about it right now. I'm just not ready." His voice was a combination of sadness, shame, and anxiety. Please don't ask me about that. Ask me anything else but please not that." He was now growing agitated.

Teyla sensed his distress. "Shh...it is all right, Major," she soothed. "I was just not aware of all of your injuries. I am just in shock at what I discovered. Do not concern yourself with this. We must concentrate on your healing."

The Major shook his head in agreement. "Just don't tell anyone about it, okay? I mean Dr. Weir and the Doctor know, but I don't exactly need it getting around."

"Of course, Major. Your secret is safe with me." It suddenly dawned on Teyla why Dr. Beckett and Dr. Weir chose to keep this detail from the team.

After a few moments of comfortable silence between them, the Major glanced at Teyla, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Thanks for the bath."

"Anytime," the Athosian woman replied having enjoyed giving the bath herself. "I have to go now."

"Aw...do you have to?" the Major overemphasized a pout.

"Yes, unfortunately, I have other duties to attend to. I will return later to help you with your lunch."

"Promise?" There was that puppy dog look again. The one that always made Teyla give in to him.

"I promise." Teyla leaned over and gave the Major a kiss goodbye on his cheek.

She took the cart with her as she turned to leave the infirmary. On her way out, she turned and gave the Major a small wave. A pink-cheeked Major gave her a small wave back and a sheepish smile. Oh, yeah...he liked her way more that he probably should. He would be looking forward to lunch. He also didn't realize how much he had missed the beautiful Athosian over the past week. Maybe this physical therapy wasn't going to be such a bad thing, after all.


	21. Ford and McKay Take Their Turn

**AN: Hello everyone. I apologize for taking so long to post. This seems to be a never-ending story but I promise the end is near. Thanks again for all the reviews. You don't knwo how much this means to me. I don't think I'm ready to pair Shep up with anyone, just yet. To be honest I'm leaning towards Liz myself.**

**RaK, I don't think I'velost my motivation, just my spare time. The holidays kind of blindsided me and my work is keeping me very busy. I know where I want to go with this sotry but, believe it or not, I do a lot of research and it takes me some time.**

**Here's one little ch. that I hope will keep eveyone riveted until I can write some more. I think its a little crappy and my worst one so far but I promise it will get better.**

**Happy Holidays!!!**

**Chapter 21: Ford and McKay Take Their Turn**

Teyla had been gone for about thirty minutes when the Major heard three pairs of footsteps and chatter coming his way. He recognized the voices as belonging to Dr. McKay, Ford, and Beckett. He wondered what McKay and Ford would be doing here this early in the morning; probably having something to do with his physical therapy, no doubt.

"Good morning, Sir," Lt. Ford greeted his CO with a grin as he approached the Major's bedside.

Dr. McKay chimed in with his own greeting. "Good morning, Major."

"Hello, boys, what brings your out this morning?" the Major drawled knowing full-well what they must be there for.

"Oh, you know, Sir. The usual, we thought we could play a little game of tag football and then head over to the mainland for some homemade brew," the young Lieutenant jokingly suggested.

"That actually sounds like a great idea, Lieutenant. When do we leave?" the Major replied not even half joking and wishing like hell he could do just that.

"Well, I'd prefer a game of hockey, myself." Dr. McKayinterjected smugly. "It is the superior game, after all." Major Sheppard and Lt. Ford glanced at each other, rolling their eyes and shaking their heads at the Canadian's snide remarks.

"Hockey, now that's a wussy sport if there ever was one," the Major ribbed.

Dr. Beckett added his contribution to the conversation. "You ought to try rugby, lads. Now there's a brutal sport if there ever was one. None of that shoulder pad nonsense."

"Well that's all well and fine if you want a sport that takes no logic or calculation not to mention the speed at which the game is played. Have you ever timed a hockey puck? Do you know the top speed that a properly executed play can reach?"

"No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell us." Lt. Ford cut in.

The Doctor was warmed by the easy banter the three men had fallen into. It seemed like the Major was displaying some semblance of his old self but the Doctor knew better knowing he could be triggered into an episode at any time. "As much as I'd like to stick around and discuss sports, I need to remind the Major that the lads are here to assist with your physical therapy like we discussed."

"Well, I'm in trouble, now." the Major smirked.

"How is your pain level this morning?" the Doctor asked the Major more seriously.

"Not too bad. I just feel a little sore right now," the Major reported truthfully.

"I would like to go ahead and give you something just to take the edge off. I want to be sure you have your full concentration on your rehabilitation." The Doctor reached into his lab coat pocket and brought out a bottle of some pain killers and handed two horse pills to the Majorand a glass of water. The Major took the meds without putting up his usual fuss.

"Okay, gentleman, you know what to do. If you have any questions, I'll be in my office." The Doctor excused himself and left the infirmary leaving the Major in the capable hands of his teammates.

"So, Sir, how do you really feel?" the Lieutenant asked once the Doctor wasout of earshot, a look of apprehension on his face.

"We've been asking about you all week and Elizabeth kept dodging our questions. At our briefing, she said you hadn't been up to having any visitors. Is that true?" Rodney challenged. It would be like Rodney to get to the point.

"Umm, yeah, about that, I was banged up pretty badly," the Major hoped he didn't sound too much like he was hedging.

"We also heard we almost lost you again, Sir." Ford added.

"Well, yes, there was that," the Major confirmed. "Look, guys, you have to understand, I wasn't quite myself for a few days."

"That's alright, Major," Lt. Ford soothed. "We know all about the post-traumatic stress. Dr. Weir and the Doc explained it to us."

Rodney tried his hand at comforting the Major. "It could have happened to any of us. I don't know what I would have done. You know how I am, it doesn't take much for me to crack up. Actually, I'm surprised more of us haven't gone off the deep end already. For all intent and purposes, we are virtually on a deserted island out here."

"But, hey, you're in good hands. I went through this with my uncle when he came back from Desert Storm and I helped my grandmother with her physical therapy when she broke her hip. If you're anything like my grandma, I'll bet you're tired of those bedpans," the Lieutenant joked trying to lighten the mood.

"What's this I hear about you being in charge, Lieutenant?" the Major inquired changing the subject. This came out sounding a little more gruffly than he intended.

"That's correct, Sir. Dr. Weir assigned me head of military operations until you get better. Is that all right with you, Major?" the young man turned serious once more not wanting to offend his CO.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Lieutenant," he reassured the young man with a sideways grin. Lt. Ford breathed a sigh of relief shaking his head in understanding.

"Yes," Rodney added, "we all agreed he was the best choice for the job. Dr. Kavanagh had the nerve to suggest that Sgt. Bates be in charge. While he is a colleague, I couldn't agree less with his suggestion."

"Well, there is not going to be any replacement if I can help it. Are you going to get me out of this bed or am I going to have to crawl my way out," the Major exclaimed bristling at the mention of Kavanagh's and Sgt. Bates' names in the same sentence.

Lt. Ford stopped the Major just short of making his way to the edge of the hospital bed. "Sir, you should also know that I took a puddle jumper yesterday morning to pick up Teyla on the mainland. It was my first solo flight, sir."

"Well, Lieutenant, that was mighty gentlemanly of you to offer the lady a ride." This was the Major's way of congratulating the young man.

Understanding the Major's subtle meaning, the Lieutenant grinned in reply and simply responded with an eager "Yes, sir."

"Speaking of Teyla, we also heard you had a sponge bath this morning," Dr. McKay said with a glint in his eye and a knowing grin on his face.

"That must have been the highlight of your morning, Sir," the Lieutenant added smiling just as wildly.

"What? How did you find out about that?" the Major exclaimed dumbfounded. Did everybody on Atlantis know about his sponge bath?

"Dr. Beckett mentioned it to us. He said you'd be ready for your therapy since Teyla had already helped you wash up this morning." Ford reported.

"That's just great! I would appreciate it if you didn't mention this little fact to anyone else," the Major retorted.

Rodney still grinning from ear to ear like a schoolboy, rocking back and forth on his heels and toes said, "I'd do anything to be given a bath byColonel Carter. Did I ever tell you how the sparks flew between uswhen weworkied together?" Dr. McKay had a wistful, starry-eyed look on his face.

"Yes!!!" both the Major and the Lieutenant deadpanned together looking at each other with _please not again_ looks on their faces.

"All right, Major, now that we know you're clean, it's time we got started," the Lieutenant broke in sparing them both before Rodney had a chance to launch into further reminiscing about Colonel Carter. "First thing we're going to do is get you into some scrubs. It's the closest thing we have to real clothes for you right now. Dr. McKay, would you give me a hand?"

They helped the Major sit up and together fumbled with getting the top on. The Major's realized his arms weren't as strong as he thought they would be so he couldn't hold them up for any significant amount of time. So between the two of them, the Lieutenant and Dr. McKay took turns holding up an arm and tugging at the scrub top until the Major could do his part to pull it down round his waist.

The Major couldn't remember the last time it took two people to dress him. There was that time his older sister had to tackled him while his mom got him dressed for school on one particularly rambunctious morning but that was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.

They then helped him get started with the pants. The Major was pretty much able to manage the bottoms himself. He was motivated by the thought of Kavanagh suggesting he was unfit for duty, which he sort of was, but that was beside the point and not entirely the case.

"Okay, Sir, we're going to take it slow for today. We're going to start off with a few exercises for your arms and legs and then we'll have you stand up for a little while. Nothing big today," Lt. Ford was in full Marine mode.

Rodney was content with letting the young man take the lead since he considered the medical arts an inexact science and he wasn't all that comfortable with this assignment. He was even less comfortable with the highly intangible psychiatric side of things.

The Lieutenant and Rodney put the Major through his paces for the morning with some resistance training and strengthening exercises. They helped him bend and lift his limbs to get circulation back into his muscles. They used some motivational techniques the Doctor had taught them and mentioning Kavanagh's name from time to time seemed to do the trick. Surprisingly, Dr. McKay was getting the hang of things fairly quickly and he became the head cheerleader as the Lieutenant took the lead with the exercises.

The Major was grateful for the pain medication. He knew he would be sore after this workout but it would be a good sore and he knew he wouldn't have made it all the way through without dulling his pain. During his therapy, he didn't dare complain, beg for them to stop, or quit on them. He was going to get through this. He was a soldier and his training dictated the precedent for the day.

It was not just about the physical pain, either. The emotional and mental pain was also a factor. Neither Ford nor McKay could begin to understand what he had been through but he was grateful for their presence and willingness to help him. At least neither of them had tried to make him talk about his experiences.

He made a mental note to be more appreciative of their efforts and Teyla's, as well. Well that part was easy. How he had missed her company; her bright smile, and eagerness to help him. He realized how much he had come to depend on Lt. Ford and remined himself to give him more reaponsibility. He was definitely ready for it.

Was he wrong in turning them out? Was he wrong for not letting them in sooner? He had always believed in timing. He wouldn't have been ready any sooner than this. The guilt he was feeling didn't allow him to focus on himself and he was grateful for that. His guilt and the team would get him through this.

But then there was the other guilt. The guilt he would carry with him for the rest of his life; the guilt of failing Teyla when she needed him most and failing at this last mission. He should have seen it coming. He should have known that the Xenotites wouldn't have been ready for the news about the Wraith. Why couldn't he have Elizabeth's instincts when it came to diplomacy?

Finally, standing on each side of the Major, Rodney and the Lieutenant got him to stand for a few seconds as they had promised. The Major wavered on sea legs getting a head rush from being hoisted up too quickly for his metabolism to adjust. His teammates held him tightly and steadily daring to not let him go frutherbuilding his trust and confidence in them.The Majorgritted his teeth and leaned on his friends. Tomorrow he would stand on his own; he would make sure of it.

An hour had passed by the time they had gotten done with all of the exercises when Ford announced, "Okay, Sir. That's it for today. Sir…?" Lt. Ford locked eyes with the Major searching the features of the distracted man.

"Huh…oh, yeah," the Major was pulled back to the present having been lost in his thoughts. Ford and McKay helped him sit back down with the younger man swinging the Major's legs back onto the bed.

"Tomorrow, we're going to try walking a couple of steps. You should be playing football in now time," Lt. Ford suggested.

The Major was breathing hard feeling like he had just finished a high impact step aerobics class and had broken a small sweat. Feeling tired, his mood had turned solemn compared to when his friends had first arrived that morning.

"We'll be back tomorrow, Major," Ford reminded his CO not missing the fatigue on the man's face.

"It's good to see you and know that you're all right," Rodney added breathing a little heavily himself from the exertion.

"Thanks, guys, I really do appreciate this," the Major stated rather strained and stoically feeling the soreness creeping up on him already.

"No problem, Sir. Anytime," Ford affirmed equally stoic. "We'll see you tomorrow. The Lieutenant and Dr. McKay turned to exit the infirmary leaving one slightly exhausted Major behind. They checked in with the Doctor on their way out giving a progress report on the morning's activities.

The Major turned on his side in an attempt to relieve his slight discomfort watching them go. That had gone very well, he reasoned to himself. After a few moments he drifted off to a light, blissful sleep curled up on his side in a half-fetal position. What seemed like a few minutes later, he was jarred awake by footsteps approaching his bed. He wondered who it could be this time and mused to himself that the infirmary was turning into Grand Central Station.

**A/N: Well, there you have it. Your reviews and your suggestions are always welcome since they do help me a lot and I hope to be back soon with more!**


	22. Teyla and Elizabeth

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the Stargate Atlantis characters and there is absolutely no money being made here. This is strictly for rest and relaxation.

**Spoilers:** None yet…maybe later.

**A/N: **I've finally found some time to do some more writing. Thank you all for patiently waiting and for the awesome and helpful reviews. I'm not sure if my narration is deteriorating or getting better. You guys let me know if this is getting too weighty or boring. I'll keep writing as long as you're enjoying this but it's got to end soon! Hang on...the emotional roller coaster continues!

See more notes below…

**Chapter 22: Teyla and Elizabeth**

"Teyla, you're back!"

"Did I not say that I would return with your lunch, Major Sheppard?" she scolded him playfully as she placed the tray of food on the bedside table.

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly, "I've had a long morning. Ford and McKay put me through the ringer."

"You do look fatigued." Teyla was staring hard at the Major, scrutinizing him, making sure all was well with him. She suspected that something unsaid lurked just beneath the surface of his mind but then thought no more of it.

"Are you hungry?" she asked once she was satisfied that nothing was out of sorts.

"Starving," the Major eagerly replied. "So, what did you bring me?"

"Tomato soup," Teyla answered setting up the valet with the food.

"It smells pretty good." He liked tomato soup okay. At this point he would eat just about anything they put in front of him, however, the Major didn't make a move to pick up the spoon.

"Are you not going to eat, Major?" Teyla finally asked settling herselfin her usual spot.

"Umm…aren't you going to help me?" he asked tentatively, raising his eyebrows along with a questioning pitch in his voice.

"Major Sheppard, from what you displayed this morning, I believe you are quite capable of feeding yourself."

Ooh…ouch, she was going to be hard on him this time. "But my workout this morning, my arms are really sore," he made a weak attempt to reason with the persistent woman.

"That is all the more reason to use them, Major," she replied testily like a mother who has had enough of her child's antics.

Seeing that whining wasn't going to get him anywhere, he dug into his lunch. He really was hungry and he really wasn't all that helpless. He just wanted Teyla to fawn over him some more but he knew that fawning wasn't exactly in Teyla's nature. Oh, well, it was worth a try.

"I hear that you began your exercises this morning. How did you fare?"

"I wasn't as strong as I thought I would be. I wanted nothing more that to be able to stand up on my own." The Major confessed to his friend, sounding disappointed. He slurped some more of his soup as they talked.

"Today was just the first day of your journey to recovery. Tomorrow, you will do better," Teyla assured him.

"I guess,"he simply replied. Having finished the small bowl of soup, he had a far away look on his face and was focusing on a point on the wall opposite his bed.

Teyla became acutely aware of his subtle shift in mood. "Major, it will take time. You cannot expect to gain your strength back in just one day."

"So, I've been told," the Major replied the frustration in his voice beginning to rise.

"With determination and perseverance, you will improve." Teyla was trying to be as persuasive and encouraging as possible. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

With a ferocity that came out of nowhere and that Teyla had rarely seen in him, the Major proceeded to fling the tray along with the bowl and spoon across the room and into the nearby wall.

With his voice raised, he lost control of his temper and yelling at his friend, "Look at me, Teyla. If you haven't noticed, yet, I'm a basket case. I'm useless to you and the team. No amount of time or determination is going to make me any better."

Teyla was speechless, not sure of how to reply to his outburst. She didn't think she had the words to comfort him just at the moment. Her heart broke at hearing the frustration in his voice. It broke even more when she realized for the first time how physically helpless he really was.

The Major had put his hands over his eyes and was beginning to shake with the rush of adrenaline. He regretted his actions and his words as soon as they came out of his mouth. What had he done? He had never yelled at Teyla in that way before. Come on, John, she was just trying to be helpful, he thought to himself, but he couldn't help it. She just didn't understand what he was going through. Or did she? He felt so confused. One minute he was enjoying her company and the next, she was grating on his nerves. Oh, God, what had he done?

He felt soft, gentle hands wrap themselves around his wrists. He allowed Teyla to pull his hands away from his face but he couldn't bring himself to look at her, sure that he would see disappointment written all over her face. Teyla took one of her hands and lifted the Major's chin, his eyes meeting her imploring ones.

"Oh, god, Teyla, I'm so sorry," he apologized in a gasp of air. A horror stricken face meeting with a compassionate one.

"It's alright, Major," Teyla soothed in a soft voice, eyes boring into the Major's with deep understanding. "I know that this is a difficult time for you."

Dr. Beckett had rushed over at hearing the clatter from the tray and its contents meeting the wall and hoped that the Major had not gone off the deep end again. He knew Teyla might be needing his help.

"Is everything alright here, lass?" he asked. "Major, are you feeling another episode coming on?"

"Everything is fine, Doctor. The Major is fatigued, that is all," Teyla reported as she put a comforting hand on the Major's forehead.

"Then you'll be needing your rest, Major" the Doctor suggested.

"I will take my leave now, Major. I'm afraid I have taxed you beyond your limits."

"Please stay. It's not your fault."The Majorwas really feeling awful and thought Teyla was surely upset with him.

"I'm afraid she's right, Major. You have already had a long day," the Doctor insisted.

"I will return in the morning." Teyla reached down and, taking his hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze in both of hers. This seemed to settle him down and nodded his acquiescence to both Teyla and the Doctor. Satisfied that he was going to be okay, she turned and left the infirmary. The Major watched after her, still feeling an incredible sense of guilt. He was getting really familiar with that state of mind.

The Doctor briefly checked the Major's vital signs. His blood pressure and pulse were slightly elevated which was not surprising after his outburst.

"Okay, Major. Would you like to tell me what was that all about?" he implored in his best bedside manner.

"I just lost it, Doc. I don't know what came over me. One minute I was fine and the next...I guess I'm just tired…" he trailed off.

Being the experienced physician that he was, the Doctor knew it was more than just fatigue. "I need to know how you're progressing so that I don't push you too hard too fast."

"I'll be fine. It's just frustrating."

"I know it is. Do you want me to give you something to help you sleep?"

"Nah, I'll be fine."

"Let me know if you change your mind."

"You'll be the first to know, Doc."

* * *

The Major slept lightly the rest of the afternoon. The Doctor had the nurses and technicians monitor him closely and attend to his personal needs. He had been through, not only his first visit with members of his team in over a week, but also through a rigorous physical therapy session. The Doctor was thankful that the Major's small outburst had not turned into a full-blown episode.

It would be Dr. Weir's turn to work with the Major in the evening. She took thelater shift since she would be attending to the daily routines of Atlantis. She was to bring the Major his dinner and assist him with processing the day's events.

She strode into the infirmary with a tray of soup. There weren't too many options left to choose from, so she went with a chicken broth. She briefly checked in with the Doctor who gave her the go-ahead to proceed and warned her that the Major had been asleep the last time he had checked in on him.

As she approached his hospital bed, Dr. Weir saw that John was indeed slumbering, curled up on his side. She had heard form Lt. Ford and Dr. McKay that he had done very well on his exercises and had been quite determined to stand on his own.

She had also learned form Teyla and the Doctor, that he had gotten frustrated to the point of flinging his food tray across the room. She watched him sleep for a few moments hating to wake him. He looked peaceful but she also knew that bad dreams could be lurking beneath that calm exterior.

Dr. Weir didn't have to wake the Major up, after all, since he had just become aware of her presence. He woke with a start and nearly jumped out of the bed making Elizabeth jump in response. Thankfully, she had placed the soup on the valet or else she might have soaked them both.

"Elizabeth!" Please, don't do that to me," the Major exclaimed as he rolled over and sat up putting a hand to his chest, attempting to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry, I'm didn't mean to startle you," she quickly apologized. "I was trying not to disturb you in the first place. Maybe I should go."

"No, please stay." For some reason, the Major was wanting her company really badly and was happy that she was there. It seemed that Elizabeth was the only person who truly understood what he was going through. Not that he thought his friends didn't care, he just felt the most comfortable with her. It appeared that they had formed a special bond over the past week.

"Alright, would you like something to eat?" she inquired. "I brought chicken soup."

"Actually, I'm not that hungry." He made a face that said the thought of food was not very pleasing to him at the moment.

"Okay...then, I guess you won't be wanting any of this?" Dr. Weir said as she reached into her jacket pocket pulling out a single serving tub of vanilla flavored Blue Bell ice cream, complete with a wooden spoon. She held it tauntingly up in front of the Major.

His eyes went wide in disbelief. "Where in the Pegasus galaxy did you get that?"

"Well, to be honest I sort of smuggled a couple of packages in. Carson let me put them in one of his freezers."

The Major couldn't believe what he was hearing. Elizabeth (do everything by the book) Weir had actually engaged in a covert operation? As innocuous as it was, it was still the equivalent of a black ops exercise.

"You, engaged in a covert operation?" he asked in his best judgmental tone.

"What?" she exclaimed innocently. "So, I have a thing for Blue Bell ice cream. What's the big deal? Besides I knew I would need it for times like these. Think of it as taking care of my crew."

"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe that pile of malarkey?" the Major retorted sarcastically.

"So, do you want the ice cream, or not, so I can eat it myself," she challenged.

"Give it here." He grabbed for the chilly treat and Elizabeth gladly handed it over. He pulled open the top and setting it aside started to eat the creamy delight. She sure had a way of making him feel better.

"God, I didn't realize how much I missed this stuff. For that matter, I miss a lot of things. Wanna bite?" He offered Elizabeth a spoonful of the concoction that she gratefully accepted smiling at his childlike delight. He seemed so…normal, just now.

It didn't take long for the Major to down the contents of the small container. For him, that was just a taste, but a much appreciated one.

Dr. Weir felt it was time to get down to business. "I understand you did very well with your physical therapy today."

No response.

"Major?" Elizabeth stretched out the word and raised her eyebrows looking at him in expectation.

"Yeah, I did alright, I guess."

"You sound disappointed."

"I lost it with Teyla."

"She told me."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she decided to never speak to me again," the Major lamented.

"I doubt that would happen, John. She cares very deeply for you. I'm sure she understands what you're going through and passes no judgment on your feelings. Just think about all that she and her people have been through. She doesn't trust us by accident. You have a lot to do with that, you know."

How does she always seem to know just what to say, John questioned himself. "I've never spoken to her that way, or anybody else on the team for that matter."

"Come on, John, give her some credit. I promise, she's not about to abandon you, especially now when you need her the most."

John smiled wistfully. Elizabeth figured that he was thinking about his Athosian friend. She wondered exactly how deep his feelings for Teyla went. He was easy to fall for and she found herself having to check her own self on more than one occasion especially when he flashed her with that flyboy smile. How she was missing that cockiness just about now.

"I also heard you had a bath this morning," Elizabeth grinned going in for the kill.

The Major went several shades of pink to red in a split second, turning his face away from Elizabeth. This was something she had never seen him do before. Had she embarrassed him? Was that possible? He might be a rogue with the ladies, but even the Major had his limits and seemed a bit on the conservative, old-fashioned side at times.

The Major spoke up through his embarrassment. "God, not you too," he grumbled still looking away from Dr. Weir.

"I doubt Teyla would do that for just anybody," she gently reminded him. "I know I wouldn't be willing to do that for anybody unless they meant a great deal to me."

"I guess you're right, as usual," he had to agree. He turned his face, now a normal shade, back towards Elizabeth. "Would you like to give me a bath next?" He just had to get her back.

Elizabeth's eyes grew wide at what had just come out of the man's mouth. He must be feeling better."I think not," she retorted as she popped him playfully on his upper arm.

"Ow, hey…okay, okay I just thought I'd ask. I thought I meant a great deal to you." He mocked being hurt and rubbed his arm where it smart just a tiny bit.

"That's what you get for asking. One must be patient and wait until one offers these things."

"Where'd you learn to hit like that," John asked his curiosity peaked.

"Northern Shoalin Kung-Fu."

"Northern Shoalin Kung-Fu?" he echoed. "Is there something you're not sharing with me?"

"I just studied it for a year. It was great therapy after I was raped."

"Oh," was all that John managed in response.

They both fell into silence each lost in their own thoughts after Dr. Weir's revelation. After a short time, Elizabeth noticed John's book on the bedside table where she had left it that day he had his first episode.

She picked it up and flipped through the pages. "Shall I read to you?" she asked the Major, sensing that he really wasn't in the mood for a long drawn-out conversation.

"I'd like that."

She opened the book to where the paper marker was resting. "You're already on page 217? I thought you had just gone up to page five?"

"I've had lots of free time, lately."

Elizabeth shook her head in understanding. There was probably not much for John to do when there was no one fussing over him in the infirmary. She started reading at Number 20 in Part II.

_The infantry regiments that had been caught unawares in the wood rushed out, men from different companies getting mixed up, and retired in a disorderly mob. One soldier in his panic shouted the meaningless words 'Cut off!' that are so terrible to hear in battle, and the cry infected the whole throng._

'_Surrounded!' Cut off! We're lost!' shouted the fugitives._

_The moment he heard the firing and the cry form behind, the general realized that something dreadful was happening to his regiment, and the thought that he, en exemplary officer for many years' service, never guilty of any breach, might now be accused of negligence or inefficiency, so staggered him that, forgetting the recalcitrant cavalry colonel, his own dignity as a general, and, above all, quite forgetting the danger and all regard for self-preservation, he clutched the saddle-bow and spurring his horse galloped to the regiment under a hail of bullets falling all around but fortunately missing him. His one desire was to find out what was wrong and at any cost remedy or correct the blunder, if he had made one, so that he, an exemplary office with twenty-two years' service who had never incurred a reprimand, should not be held to blame... _(taken from _War and Peace_, Tolstoy: Penguin Books, 1982, pp. 217 – 218, translation by R. Edmunds, 1978).

Elizabeth read late into the evening to a rapt and intent Major, managing to cover a few chapters. He would stop her from time to time to comment on some piece of the story. The Major enjoyed hearing her lilting voice and the contents of the novel seemed to sound better coming from her rather than the voice he heard in his head when he read it to himself.

After a while, Dr. Weir became aware of soft snoring and, looking up from the words she herself had become so enthralled with, saw that John had drifted off to sleep. She put the paper marker at the spot where she had stopped reading and placed the book back on its perch.

Leaning over the Major, Elizabeth gave him a goodnight kiss on his forehead. Reaching down to gather the sheet and blanket, she tucked them up around his shoulders. He sighed as he settled further into the pillows and succumbed to the deepest sleep since emerging battered and beaten through the Stargate over a week ago.

TBC…

**A/N: **

**Sam: **My husband is from a military family and he helps me stay accurate with that aspect. Thank you for your comments about PTSD. I do hope to make my stories educational as a side benefit to the entertainment value. I can't help it since I work in higher ed.

**joanne1138:** Please don't feel bad about offering criticism. I appreciate comments that will help me improve on my accuracy. Yours is the kind of useful criticism that keeps me on my toes and makes me do my research. I hope I can keep on dazzling you. Thanks…


	23. Standing Strong

**A/N: **Hello all. The emotional roller-coaster continues. Enjoy and Happy New Year!!!

**Chapter 23: Standing Strong**

The Major was awake bright and early the next morning having gotten a very good nights sleep. Dr. Beckett was fussing over him, giving him a thorough exam. John wondered if he ever slept and swore the man spent every second of his time in the infirmary. He felt a little guilty that he was probably the main reason for the Doc's busy schedule.

The Doctor was pleased to know that the Major had slept well and it showed in his features that now looked stress- and worry-free with a healthy color to his face.

"Well, Major. It looks like you are healing up quite nicely. You are making excellent progress, physically. Your bruising has gone down considerably and your surgical wounds are looking very good. Do you have any significant pain or dizziness?"

"Not really. My ribs still smart from time to time but nothing I can't handle."

"Excellent. The boys will be back this morning to continue with your physical therapy. I see no reason for you to be overly cautious with your workouts. Now if you do experience any dizziness, have a seat right away and allow your body to adjust. There is no need to push too hard."

"Okey, dokey, Doc."

"I'll be getting back to my lab for now. Let me know if you need anything. Teyla should be by any minute with your breakfast and….here she is now," the Doctor declared as he spotted her approaching figure.

Teyla had just walked into the infirmary with the familiar tray of food. She came towards the hospital bed setting the tray aside and greeting the two men with a cheerful good morning.

"I'll leave you in Teyla's capable hands," the Doctor declared as he retreated to his other duties.

The Major's appetite was also healthy this morning since he made no fuss over the grey substance that was his oatmeal and began eating almost as soon as Teyla placed the bowl and spoon in front of him. Teyla flashed the Major a great big, contented smile at his eagerness to eat the bland breakfast without any help or prompting from her.

She sat down at her usual place. "You look well rested, Major. How do you feel?"

"Much better, I must have been wiped out last night."

"You had a busy day, yesterday, after not having been active in a long while." Teyla observed.

"Have I told you how sorry I am about yelling at you?"

"Major, there is no need for that," Teyla soothed.

"I just feel so bad about it. I've never done that to you or anyone else on the team for that matter. I don't know what came over me."

"You becoming frustrated and 'yelling' does not change the way I feel about you. You are my friend and nothing will change that."

"Thanks, Teyla. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'm sure you would manage," she stated matter-of-factly.

"So, what's on your agenda for this morning?" the Major asked curiously looking over at the supplies Teyla had brought along with the breakfast. "Am I getting another bath?"

"Not today. However, it is about time you shaved."

"What…is the scruffy look out?" the Major teased running a hand across his coarse chin.

"Major Sheppard, that stubble needs to come off. It is unbecoming of a man of your stature," Teyla scolded in her no-nonsense way that said youbest comply or else.

"Fine," the Major replied a little more sternly than he intended. It didn't seem to phase Teyla as she continued on, bringing out the shaving gear and disposing of the breakfast dishes.

Teyla pulled out an Earth shaving device that she was unfamiliar with. "The Doctor tells me that most of the men on Earth use this device to remove their facial hair."

The Major knitted his eyes together as he took the device. "That's what we call an electric shaver," he explained. "Some men prefer a razor. Others prefer an electric shaver. I generally try to avoid both but this should do the trick."

He took the razor to his face as Teyla pulled out and propped up a mirror for him. It was fully charged and, thankfully, didn't need to be plugged in since the Major's stubble was pretty thick and unruly, much like his hair. He made quick work of his shave and Teyla cleared off the mirror and the device just as quickly. She brought out a small container, and opening it, put some of its contents in her hands and rubbed them together.

"What's that," the Major inquired.

"It is a salve that the Athosian men use after they remove facial hair. It is soothing and healing to the skin." She reached over and began to massage it into the Major's cheeks and chin. It was minty and tingly but did not sting like most of the aftershaves that he had used. He basked in the coolness of the balm.

"Wow…that feels great. Where can I get some of this? The stuff we use on Earth stings like hell."

"Why do you use it if it damages you? What is the use in that?" Teyla inquired.

"Good question," the Major replied. "Seems like a lot of people on Earth tend to use products that aren't necessarily good for them in the name of beauty." Botox came to his mind.

"You may keep this. It should last a very long time. It is made with healing herbs. Athosian women also use it on their faces and for various other things such as cuts and abrasions." She placed the jar next to the Major's book on the bedside table.

The Major learned something about Athosian customs just about every day. He imagined that Teyla experienced the same thing about them. Mostly, he was glad for her company this morning and glad that their friendship was back on track. From Teyla's point of view, it had never been off track but the Major's perception was skewed and he needed to know that everything was clear, at least, on his part.

The two companions continued to chat about various Earth/Athosian customs andthe topic continued on with women's beauty habits, a topic John was not entirely comfortable with. Teyla didn't seem to notice and asked questions that the Major finally had to put his foot down on and let her know that these were inquiries she might want to direct towards Dr. Weir or one of the female scientists. Teyla, getting the message, smiled that condescending smile he was all too familiar with when Teyla was besting him at something.

The two were interrupted by some loud, clamorous noises coming towards them and an all-too-familiar voice giving pompous directions. As they looked in the direction of the cacophony, they saw Lt. Ford, and the Doctor approaching carrying an odd looking piece of equipment with Dr. McKay in the lead looking like he was directing traffic.

"Ow…that was my foot you just stepped on. Can you be a little more careful, please." They immediately recognized the insulted voice of their resident genius physicist.

"Sorry, I'm doing the best I can to walk backwards and see where I'm headed. Have a little patience, Doc." That was the obvious retort of a flustered Lt. Ford.

"Boys, we'll have to set it down here. This is the best spot in the infirmary that will allow full access to the Major's bed. I will not have this thing in the way of my nurses and technicians if an emergency arises." That was Dr. Beckett's voice reminding everyone that he ultimately gives the orders in the infirmary.

Teyla and the Major just watched the trio with mouth's hanging open stunned at the scene developing before them.

"What the hell is that?" the Major finally managed pointing in the direction of the contraption.

"That, my dear Major, is going to help you walk," a smug Rodney replied with obvious pride in his voice.

"No it's not," replied a sarcastic Major. "Not if you had anything to do with it."

"I'll have you know Major that this is a masterpiece, a veritable work of art. I put it together myself. Of course, I had a little help. Actually, I enlisted the help of Dr. Zelenka and his team but I designed it. I'm sure upon closer inspection, our fine Doctor here will find that this meets and exceeds the specs of any state-of-the-art equipment you'll find on the market…well, Earth's market, but we're not on Earth are we."

"Rodney, it will serve its purpose," the Doctor interrupted rather impatiently with the scientist.

"See, the Doctor has already given his stamp of approval."

The Major and Teyla just exchanged exasperated glances with each other. Whatever it was for, John was sure he was not going to be too happy about it.

"Doc, what the hell is this all about?" the Major finally asked as the three men approached his bed.

"Actually, Major, this is for your physical therapy. It's a set of parallel bars to help you while you get used to walking, again," Dr. Beckett replied. "We can't have you falling so I had Rodney here build it so that you can have some support."

"Does Dr. Weir know about this?" the Major asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, it's all been approved. I checked it out myself and it's actually a good piece of equipment."

"See! What did I tell you," Dr. McKay jumped in with a self-satisfied grin on his face. "I designed it so that it adjusts for height and for width," Rodney demonstrated. It was almost painful to see how Vanna White-ish he looked as everyone in the room winced at his zeal.

The Major, seeing how enthused McKay was and not wanting to pop his bubble too badly play-acted at being interested. "Well, it does look like a fine piece of equipment." He nodded his head looking at Teyla who smiled the same condescending smile she had given the Major earlier and nodded her head in agreement.

Rodney beamed.

Lt. Ford finally broke up the party. "Okay, Major. Are you ready for your workout? I guess we can look forward to breaking this beauty in." He very subtly rolled his eyes but it did not escape the Major and Teyla who were doing all they could to keep from laughing.

Poor Rodney, he really was sincere in his efforts to be helpful, the Major reasoned to himself. He decided to go along with the plan and humor the poor physicist. If the Doc felt it was necessary, then it must be okay.

The Doctor excused himself but Teyla decided to stay and watch, repositioning the stool to one side out of the way of her colleagues. The two men took the Major through the warm-up and strengthening exercises getting through the reps quicker than the day before so that they could get in some substantial work on standing and walking.

Rodney reprised his role as head cheerleader and could hardly contain how thrilled he was when it came time to get the Major to stand up. John was just about ready to throw up over McKay's sickening, syrupy enthusiasm. He imagined he was acting like the equivalent of a stage mother at a five year olds beauty pageant.

Teyla watched in mild humor and with pride at how quickly the Major was progressing. The two friends had gotten him to stand up as the day before, but this time, after just a couple of tense seconds, the Major did not waiver and seemed to be standing strong. The Major was relieved when he didn't feel light-headed and even better, when he felt no pain.

"Okay, Major, we're going to help you over to the parallel bars," the Lieutenant explained. He was much more sober about the situation than Dr. McKay. Of course, he hadn't been as invested in creating the rehab equipment as the physicist had been. The Lieutenant was also more wary, having experience with a family member with PTSD and with working with his Grandma after she broke her hip. This was really hard work and he didn't think Dr. McKay was fully aware of that fact.

The two men hoisted the Major up supporting him on each side as they walked him the few short steps to the parallel bars.

"Sir, you'll need to hold on to the bars and when you're ready, you can take a step. Please take your time and don't rush yourself. Use the bars to support your weight. Dr. McKay and I will be standing on each side of you in case you need the extra support."

Rodney beamed.

"How hard can it be, Lieutenant?" the Major asked as he placed a hand on each rail.

He stood there for just a minute getting used to having all his weight on his legs once again. Once they were sure he was secure, Rodney and Lt. Ford let go of his arms.

"Sir, if all you do today is stand there, that's enough. Don't feel like you need to do any more than that. It took my Grandma a couple of days before she started walking," the Lieutenant coached.

"That's fine and dandy, Lieutenant, but I'm not an old lady and I didn't break my hip. It's not like I'm some sort of an invalid," the Major sternly reminded the young man.

"Yes, sir," the Lieutenant affirmed with extra respect in his voice not meaning to be condescending to his commanding officer.

Rodney beamed.

God, how the Major wished he could wipe that smirk off McKay's face. He was really beginning to grate on his nerves.

"Alright, Sir…one step at a time. One foot in front of the other," Lt. Ford said in an encouraging voice.

"I know the mechanics of walking, Lieutenant. I don't need any reminders from you," the Major came dangerously close to snapping at the Lieutenant.

Another respectful, "Yes sir," from the young man. The last thing he wanted to do was aggravate the Major. He didn't like the idea of being the possible cause of an episode. The Major rarely snapped at him and knew that the tone in his voice was indicative of his starting to reach his boiling point.

Major Sheppard was doing the best he could to remain calm and have patience with himself. He didn't like this contraption and he liked having to depend on it even less. At least he was standing but even that was tenuous, at best. He took a deep breath and attempted to take Lt. Ford's advice and place one foot in front of the other.

He managed one complete step and held it there for a couple of tense seconds. McKay and Ford watched him like a hawk staying by his side in case he needed them. The Major took another step. This time it was a somewhat wobbly compared to the last one.

Dr. McKay was not beaming as much anymore, concern beginning to show on his face. Teyla had stood up and came closer to the three men in case she was needed, as well.

Rodney tried to be encouraging. "You're doing great, Major." The Major flashed him a 'back off' look taking Rodney a little by surprise.

The Major took two more steps, the strain in his arms now beginning to show and take its toll. The other two men remained silent not wanting to further incur any of the Major's wrath. He had made it halfway down the length of the parallel bars but was beginning to perspire and his breath was getting shorter.

"I think that's probably enough for today, Sir," Lt. Ford warned.

"Yeah…let's save some for tomorrow," McKay chimed with real concern etched in his voice this time.

"I'll say when I've had enough," was John's crisp reply. His eyes had grown dark and he gave them a stone-cold look.

Teyla had stepped in closer to the three men and having seen how the Major's moods could swing sharply, stood at the ready just in case. The threeteammates began to sense the build up of tension in the air.

The Major attempted another determined step after having paused to catch his breath but he would never make it the length of the parallel bars. He started to slip and desperately attempted to keep from falling to the ground. Ford and McKay moved in immediately but they weren't quick enough. In an attempt to catch the Major before he was all the way to the ground, Dr. McKay grabbed him by the waist of his scrubs while Lt. Ford reached under his arm.

This proved to be a fatal mistake. The futile attempt did nothing to slow the Major's fall and acted, instead, as a trigger for another episode. Teyla saw this coming and moved in by the Major's side while Rodney and Lt. Ford stooped down beside him.

The Major had a far-away look in his eyes and the terrified look in his eyes was unmistakable. He was starting to shake and his breathing was coming in quick gulps.

"Major?" Rodney placed a hand on his shoulder trying to get the Major's attention.

The Major let out a yelp and forcefully brushed Rodney's hand away, scrambling backwards away from the three worried faces in front of him.

Lt. Ford tried to placate the Major. "Easy sir, we're just trying to help." He was met with a shove and was thrown back on his heels.

"I'll get the Doctor." Teyla quickly proceeded to report what was happening.

"What do we do?" an anxious McKay looked to Ford for support.

"Just leave him alone. Let him ride it out," the Lieutenant suggested.

The Major had backed up into a crook between two hospital beds. His knees were pulled up to his chest and he was rocking back and forth mumbling something incomprehensible.

Dr. Beckett was by their sides in a heartbeat with Teyla in tow. "Do either of you care to tell me what happened?" he asked the two stricken men.

Lt. Ford decided to proceed with the narrative. "He was going along fine on the parallel bars, even got half-way through, but then he started to fall and we caught him too late. Next thing we know, he was on the floorand when Dr. McKay tried to get his attention, he just snapped."

"I tried to catch him by the waist but I grabbed the scrubs instead," Dr. McKay reported.

"Ahh…Rodney!" Dr. Beckett exclaimed rubbing his face with his hand bringing it to rest under his chin.

"What…what did I do?" an innocent Dr. McKay asked now confused.

"Your actions may have caused him to go into an episode. You didn't do anything wrong. Anything could have triggered it. I'll explain it to you later."

The Doctor had an idea. "Teyla, go and get Dr. Weir."

Teyla was out the door in a flash. Dr. Beckett was not about to try to engage the Major and felt that Dr. Weir would be the better person for the job.

"Dr. Weir may be able to coax him out. They seem to have developed a bond," the Doctor explained.

"Is this typical behavior during an episode?" Rodney asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," the Doctor replied giving Rodney a sympathetic look.

"My God, I had no idea." Rodney sank back down on his backside. "No wonder he didn't want any of us around." Realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

"How do we know when he's going to be triggered by something?" Rodney continued now wanting to know as much as possible so that he could help his friend.

"We won't ever know when it's about to happen. It's like a ticking time bomb," Lt. Ford answered.

"Aiden's correct, Rodney. I can say that I have observedhis episodes occurring further apart." The Doctor decided to try getting closer to the Major and see if he could coax him out but to no avail. As before, the Major didn't respond to the Doctor and only panicked some more when Dr. Beckett inched towards him. Hebacked off not wanting to disturb the distraught man any more than necessary.

Teyla had returned with Dr. Weir who took command of the situation right away asking everyone to back away and give the Major some space. She immediately got down on her hands and knees and started to speak to the Major in calming tones, inching her way closer to him as she did the last time.

"John, it's me, Elizabeth. Can I sit next to you? It's okay, I'm here to help." She made her way ever so slowly towards him. The rest of the team was so quiet and transfixed on the scene in front of them that you could hear a pin drop.

The Major risked a glance in Dr. Weir's direction. She was mere centimeters away from him. "Make them go away. Make them leave me alone," he begged in a strained voice.

"Who, John…make who go away?" Dr. Weir gently probed.

"Them." John pointed a shaky finger at the four other people in the room that were looking on in shock.

"They're not going to hurt you, John. They're your friends," Elizabeth implored.

"N…no, not my friends," the Major shouted.

The lights in the infirmary flickered. Everyone looked around in wonder. Did the Major cause that? Elizabeth was surprised with by his outburst and the lights appeared to be reactingto his distress. That could be a problem. She turned around and gestured to the Doctor to usher everyone out of the infirmary.

"Alright everyone, that's our cue to leave. I don't think we're going to do any more good here," Dr. Beckettwhispered.

Rodney opened his mouth to protest but the Doctor fixed him a look that said 'don't even go there.'

Ford reluctantly moved from his vantage point feeling like he was violating his oath as a Marine to stand by his fallen comrade. Teyla was reluctant to leave as well, but the room was shortly cleared out as the Doctor herded them all out so that Elizabeth could do her work.

TBC…


	24. Fallen Soldier

**A/N: **Hey everybody, sorry about the words running together in the last couple of chapters. I made corrections on the quick edit and I should have checked before submitting. I'm not sure if it was me or the technology. Thanks…

**Chapter 24: Fallen Soldier**

The Doctor managed to get the team out into the hall where they milled around in shocked silence. "Are all of you alright?" he asked the group.

He was answered with head nods and mumbling from the morose group.

"Carson, I'm so sorry, I had no idea what to expect," Rodney apologized.

The Doctor put a reassuring hand on Dr. McKay's shoulder who was looking very sheepish. "Now don't go blaming yourself, Rodney. These things happen when we least expect. One moment the Major may be fine, and the next he might snap at you for no reason. He's not in a good place psychologically and is a bit emotionally unstable. This is a reaction to the trauma he endured."

"What exactly happened to him, Doc.," Lt. Ford asked. "I mean, we know he was tortured and all but is there something else we don't know about? The Major can usually work stuff out and he's been through a lot worse."

"That's not for me to share with you, Aiden. That is something the Major will have to tell you about himself if and when he chooses too. We may have to accept that he may want to keep it private and to himself for the rest of his life." The Doctor was not about to reveal the truth of what happened to John keeping strict patient confidentiality.

The group looked at each other exchanging nervous glances not willing to contemplate what could have happened to the Major that was so terrible. Teyla had her suspicions but she wasn't about to air them in front of the group respecting the Major's request to not talk about the abuse he suffered.

"All of you did very well this morning. This is just one little setback but I want you to know that you are all doing a fine job. Now, I had better go and check in on Dr. Weir and the Major. I'll send her out, shortly."

* * *

"Okay, Major, they're all gone," Elizabeth soothed. 

"Not my friends…not my friends," John mumbled repeatedly to himself. "They want to hurt me."

Elizabeth was beside herself. She hadn't seen John this deep into an episode. He couldn't seem to pull himself out of it. "John, who wants to hurt you? Would you like to talk about it?"

"They all want to hurt me and you, too."

The Major was still wild-eyed and Elizabeth wasn't quite sure how to proceed. She hadn't tried to touch him and thought this might help to calm him. She moved in closer to him and reached out placing a hand on his shoulder.

She was met with a stern "Go away!" as the Major pulled away from her grip turning to face away from her.

Elizabeth didn't want to go away. "John, is there a particular reason you want me to leave?" she addressed a shaking back.

"Just go away…" was the Major's curt, enunciated reply.

"I can't just leave you here like this on the floor. At least let me get you back into bed then I'll go away. Okay?" She attempted to reason with him.

"N…no, go away. Now!" he growled.

This was not going to be easy but she was determined. "I'm not leaving you here alone like this. You're going to have to put up with me until you decide to either talk to me or get back into bed."

The Major crawled away from Elizabeth leaning his back against the hospital bed. He pulled his knees to his chest and stared her down with dagger eyes and a stone-faced pout. Elizabeth didn't dare make a move to pursue him respecting the space he had established between them.

She leaned against the bed on the opposite side of where he was sitting. "Alright, how about if I just stay over here?" she gently suggested.

John continued to stare at her hardly blinking his eyes. Elizabeth could see that there was anger and hurt residing in them. She also detected disappointment and frustration. Those were a lot of emotions to harbor all at once. She could only imagine what was going through his mind.

Dr. Beckett had returned to check on them but Elizabeth gestured to leave them alone. The Doctor, getting the message, mouthed to her that he would be in his office and left Dr. Weir to her work.

They sat in complete silence for several long minutes. Elizabeth wasn't quite sure how she was going to break through to him but she certainly had lots of practice in waiting out many negotiations. She would sit there as long as it took to get John to come out of his mood.

Elizabeth casually observed the Major. After a few minutes, she noticed that his shaking had subsided. He had cast his eyes down and was staring blankly at the floor. She gave him a dubious look in an attempt to determine if he had become coherent or not.

The Major looked up at Elizabeth and she noticed that his eyes were clearer and he seemed comprehensive. "Did I just phase out, again?" he softly asked her.

Dr. Weir nodded her head in affirmation not sure if the Major was really back or not. The Major appeared pensive for a few seconds. He spoke after awhile and what he said sent a chill down Elizabeth's spine.

"I would kill for you," he stated in an icy voice with a look in his eyes that could pierce through lead.

"John," she started tenuously, "you've killed on behalf of a lot of people."

"No, you don't understand. I will kill anyone who harms you or even tries to harm you in any way." Each word was thickly enunciated in a low, threatening voice that made Elizabeth picture them with icicles hanging off each letter.

She was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable with the lethality in the Major's voice and she wasn't sure she liked this dark side of him that was emerging. In her nervousness, she contemplated calling the Doctor back and hoped that John wasn't picking up on her anxiety. She wasn't totally convinced that his episode was over and felt just a little bit over her head..

The Major must have scared himself out his episode, since he started looking around the room wildly like someone who had just awakened from a bad dream and was finally displaying full lucid behavior.

"Elizabeth?" he whispered in her direction looking at her as if he had just noticed her for the first time.

"I'm here, John." Dr. Weir moved quickly in his direction sensing that he was going to want her comfort.

He started to get a screwed up look on his face as unbearable confusion was crashing in on him followed by stark realization. Where was he? How did he get on the floor like this? Oh, no, did he just have another episode? He reached out towards Dr. Weir. She wiggled even closer to him catching him as he fell into her arms in a weeping heap. She felt the tension and stress coursing through his body like small electrical shocks.

The Major grieved. Grieved for the loss of his strength, grieved for letting down his friends, and mostly, he grieved for the loss of his dignity and self-respect. This saint of a woman was by his side; rocking him and saying sweet, soothing things to him. He didn't deserve her friendship. He didn't deserve the help of any of his friends. A pitiful, weak, excuse for a military leader was all he had amounted to.

Elizabeth held him tightly allowing him to pour out all of his feelings, all of the rage, the hurt, the frustration, and the self-loathing.

"Its okay, John," she soothed. "Shhh…it's going to be okay." She rocked him and caressed his back. "I don't know if I've ever told you this, but I'm very proud of you," she whispered delicately in his ear.

He stiffened. She's proud of him? How could that be? How could she be proud of him? The Major's thoughts were a jumble of confusion. How could she say that? He was not worthy. Can't she see what he had become?

The Doctor showed up as if on cue. He had come to check on them like children who had become too quiet in their play and were surely getting into some sort of trouble. He was ready with a hypodermic filled with a sedative and was prepared to use it. He and Elizabeth didn't have to exchange words, each knowing through the expressions on their faces what had to be done. When Doctor Beckett was sure that the Major wouldn't put up a fight or resist in any way, he inserted the needle in the distraught man's upper arm administering the medication as Elizabeth held him firmly.

After a few seconds, the Major started to go limp as he succumbed to the sedative and emotional exhaustion. Right before he passed out, he looked up at Elizabeth with eyes that said 'please help me.' Elizabeth's heart ached for him and all she could do was hold him.

The Doctor called a couple of technicians over to help him get John back into bed. They accomplished their task quickly, carrying the Major like a rag doll. Obviously, the Doctor had decided that a very strong sedative was in order.

Dr. Beckett reached out a hand to Elizabeth helping her to get up from the floor where she had remained to gather her thoughts and her energy. The fact that she looked spent and a little scared didn't escape the Doctor's trained eye. "Are you alright, Elizabeth?"

"I've been worse, Doctor. I can't seem to get used to these outbursts and they seem to be getting worse," she lamented.

"He's going to be okay. He just needs more time. I'm going to try to figure out a way to lessen the episodes. This one seemed to be the worst of them. He can only get better from here."

"I hope you're right, Doctor. He was acting even stranger than the last time. He said something to the effect that he'd kill for me."

Dr. Beckett gave her a perplexed look. "I'd take that seriously if I were you," he advised after contemplating her statement.

Elizabeth nodded absent-mindedly still in denial of John's lethal declaration.

"The lights," she suddenly remembered, "do you think we have to worry about the Major affecting some of the systems when he's not able to control himself?"

"That is something to consider," the Doctor said pensively. "I don't think it will be a big problem but considering that the city exhibits the strongest reaction to him, we might want to plan for backup and safety precautions. I doubt it will happen again, but we should be prepared nevertheless."

"Agreed, I'll get Dr. McKay and Lt. Ford on it right away," she suggested.

"By the way, the team is waiting out in the hall for you," Dr. Beckett gently informed the slightly frazzled Dr. Weir. "They are going to be looking to you for leadership and they're going be needing your help to process all of this as much as the Major does and perhaps even more. Your role, as much as you might not like it, is that of the head of the family. The team is going to depend on you to guide them and be the glue that keeps them together."

Dr. Weir sighed. It seemed that her work as leader of Atlantis was never done. Now, she was expected to take on the role of 'mother', on top of everything else.

"No pressure there. I guess it's not much different from what I already do on Atlantis," she declared. She shook her head at Carson in understanding and hesitated before making her exit, sneaking a glance back at the Major who was now securely tucked into bed and out cold.

"Go on, lass," the Doctor gently nudged, "we'll take good care of him."

* * *

Dr. Weir made her way out of the infirmary to the Major's anxiously awaiting team. She emerged through the threshold to a quiet group plastered with long, concerned faces and steeled herself to face the guilt-stricken team. 

Rodney immediately spoke up having been the first to spot Dr. Weir exiting the infirmary. "Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I had no idea," he apologized profusely.

"Its okay, Rodney, it's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

Dr. McKay tried to continue but Dr. Weir held up a hand to silence him. "Let's not talk here, we'll debrief in my office." She wanted to move them out of the open hallway and into a more secure location. This could get ugly very quickly if the wrong ears heard what they were about to discuss. Elizabeth had visions of Kavanaugh and Sgt. Bates savagely tearing John apart.

The glum group shook their heads in agreement and silently followed Dr. Weir back to her office where they gathered chairs and sat in a semi-circle around her desk. Ford and Teyla were both unusually quiet and kept exchanging concerned glances between them. Rodney was a bundle of nerves and was practically quaking in his seat.

"Alright, everyone," Dr. Weir started in her familiar business etiquette once everyone was settled. "I know that probably came as a shock to each of you. I know it did when I first encountered it. The Major will be fine. Doctor Beckett gave him a sedative and he's resting. I know the Doctor was there to assist so I won't ask you to rehash the details. If you care to share or want to ask any questions, I want you to feel free to do so."

Her offer was greeted with uncharacteristic silence.

"Rodney, I believe you had a concern?" Dr. Weir asked in a formal tone.

Dr. McKay was startled out of his thoughts and jumped slightly. "I'm just concerned that I did something to bring on his episode. I couldn't believe…I mean…it, it was just hard to see him going through that." He just couldn't find the words to describe what he was feeling; not unusual for Rodney.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Dr. McKay, it just happens without warning. My uncle was the same way. All we can do is let him ride it out and be there for him when he comes out of it." This time it was Lt. Ford trying to placate the physicist. It seemed to do the trick since Rodney seemed to calm considerably as he shook his head in understanding.

Teyla took the lead this time. "It is as Lt. Ford says. My people behave in a similar fashion after Wraith attacks. If a person is isolated, their recovery is much slower. Much damage is made to the mind and just like the body, it takes time to heal. We need to continue to be patient and supportive of the Major no matter how much he attempts to drive us away."

"Teyla is right," Dr. Weir agreed. "We need to keep on doing what we have been assigned. From what I learned from the Doctor, the Major is going to need constant and consistent support without judgment. We need to work together to provide him with a secure environment where he can feel safe to work out the trauma. No matter how he reacts to us, we need to keep our reactions to him as normal as possible. Chances are he's going to fight us tooth and nail but we have to remain strong for him."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Ford chimed in optimistically. He wasn't about to give up on his CO and friend falling back on his military training of leaving no one behind.

"I will continue to support the Major, as well," Teyla confirmed. "He has come to be more that just a fellow warrior but a close friend, as well."

"Rodney?" Weir inquired turning to the distraught man.

"Yes, yes, yes, of course!" Dr. McKay stammered. After all, he was one of the best friends he had ever had, even if he was an occasional pain, he thought to himself. He didn't put his heart and soul into building those parallel bars for nothing.

"There is one other thing that I would like to discuss and that is the lights flickering in reaction to the Major's outburst. Rodney, should we be concerned with how the city's systems will react to him when he's experiencing an episode?"

Rodney was back to physicist mode. This was something he could relate to and talk about. "I believe it was just a minor occurrence and I don't see that he can crate any long term problems, but we should probably take precautions just the same. I'll be happy to get with Dr. Zelenka and run a few simulations and diagnostics." Finally…a way that Rodney could contribute that made sense to him.

"Do it. Lieutenant, would you put some security backups into place until we know what we're dealing with. Also, check with Dr. McKay and follow his recommendations when he gets more information."

"Yes ma'am," the young officer replied.

"Okay, then if there are no more questions or concerns, you're dismissed. We will continue to have daily debriefings in my office say around 1500 hours." Dr. Weir felt that was a good place to end the meeting and wanted to make sure she gave them enough time to process their own feelings and concerns about the situation. Each of the team members left Dr. Weir's office feeling somewhat better and up-lifted. She had that effect on them.

Rodney certainly had a better picture of what was going on. Being the one with the least experience with PTSD, it hit him for the first time the seriousness of the Major's situation. He walked away with the full understanding of what his role in all this was going to be. He hadn't realized how much of a friend John had become. Oh, they had their moments, but when it came down to it, he could think of no one else he would rather follow head-long into danger.

He ran after Teyla and Lt. Ford who had gotten a few paces ahead of him. "Anyone care to join me for lunch?"

Teyla and Ford exchanged glances and with smiles turned to Dr. McKay and accepted his invitation.

"Sure," the Lieutenant replied enthusiastically.

"I would find that very enjoyable," Teyla agreed.

If it was one thing that Dr. McKay had taught them was that there was no stressful situation that could not be healed with a good meal that is, among friends, of course. Lunch was indeed just what the trio needed, giving them some time to further process the mornings events and form a stronger bond with one another.

They made their way to the mess hall and each found out more about each other during the hour they spent dining together, than during the entire time they had worked as a team. This may turn out to be the most difficult mission they had been assigned but it would prove the most valuable one. They would stand by thier fallen comrade.

TBC…


	25. Remembering

**A/N: Hello everyone. Thanks for all the wonderful and helpful reviews. I'm sorry to take so long to post and just one little measly chapter to boot. I have a huge state exam coming up that I've been preparing for but I should have more free time after I get it over with. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 25: Remembering**

Elizabeth was there when the Major woke up. She was sitting in her usual spot on the stool her face creased with worry. She was the last person he wanted to see but he knew she was not going away. The woman was persistent if not anything else. He took a deep breath and turned to face the inevitable.

"Hey," she said giving the Major a gentle smile as he became aware of her presence.

"Hey," he returned making a weak attempt to smile back.

"How're you doing?" Elizabeth probed carefully not exactly sure what mental state the Major was going to be in.

The Major shrugged, "Okay, I guess. How long have I been out?" He suspected he was given a sedative since he was feeling quite groggy.

"Several hours," Dr. Weir reported.

"It happened again, didn't it?"

Elizabeth nodded her head in verification. "Do you remember anything?"

"I'm not sure. I remember the guys taking me through the exercises and I think I fell. Oh, God...Rodney," John paused narrowing his eyes as memories came flooding back to his mind. "They must hate me."

"They don't hate you, but I think you did scare them pretty good."

"Did I hurt anybody?" He looked at her anxiously with those puppy-dog eyes that always made Elizabeth skip a beat. His concern was warranted since he knew there was always the potential for violent behavior during his episodes.

"No," she smiled at him. _At least, not physically_, she wanted to add but held her tongue not wanting to make the Major feel worse than he probably already did.

"Do you remember what happened after you fell?" Elizabeth wanted to get an idea of how much the Major actually recalled so she could measure the severity of the episode. It was important that they kept stats on the duration and intensity of each one so that they could assist him better.

"I don't remember much…wait, you were there. Oh, Liz, I'm sorry. I just can't control what happens. I remember you being there when I came out of it but there's a big gap starting with when I fell."

"There's no need to apologize, John. So, you remember falling and then you remember me next to you but nothing in-between," Elizabeth reflected making sure she understood the Major correctly.

"That's the gist of it. What exactly happened when I phased out?"

"Actually, I'm not exactly sure since I didn't come in until a little while after your episode began. You wanted everyone to go away claiming that they wanted to hurt us and you wouldn't let me touch you. Do you remember any of this?"

"I…I wanted everyone to go away?" he stammered not believing that he would ask that of his team. What had he done?

As if reading his mind, Elizabeth tried to help him come to grips with his experience. "Its okay, John, you didn't realize that they were your team members. You must have equated them with your torturers."

John grimaced. He hated that feeling of being out of control of his senses, of superimposing hisfriends with those god-awful people that put him in this predicament. Elizabeth gave him a few moments to process this information. She could tell by the expression on his face that he was struggling with his recollections.

"There's also one other thing we need to discuss, John." He gave her his, how much worse is this going to get, look. "You said that you would kill for me. You kind of scared me for a minute."

"I said that?" he asked incredulously. Ah…Elizabeth, I don't remember." He was beginning to feel even more terrible.

"You said that if anyone harmed me in any way, you would kill them."

"I would do what I'd do for anyone whose life was threatened on Atlantis. You have to believe that," John stated emphatically raising his voice.

"Whoa, John, calm down. I understand completely. You were smack in the middle of your episode and out of your senses when you said it. I know you risk your life just about everyday to keep every one on Atlantis secure."

"Well…I…would kill for you, I mean, I guess…if someone was trying to shoot you or something…or if a Wraith had a hold of you. I mean…sure, I'd kill the SOB." He stammered out the statement in a way that would make McKay sound like a motivational speaker.

Dr. Weir put a calming hand on the Major's shoulder and looked at him with appreciative eyes. "I understand what you're trying to say."

John looked up at her relieved since he didn't think he could do a much better job of explaining himself further. The Major paused and creasing his brow, was pensive for a few seconds trying to wrap his mind around some more memories. He did remember one salient comment. "Did you mean what you said," he finally asked in a soft, hopeful voice.

Not quite following what he meant, Dr. Weir, cocking her head to one side, asked for clarification. "What do you mean?"

"You know, what you said about being proud of me? That's the last thing I remember before passing out."

Her expression changed to one of comprehension. "Yes, of course and I'm sorry that I hadn't said it sooner. I'm proud of what you have done especially with the team. My God, Rodney's practically a different person than when he first arrived. He's been very brave on the past few missions and works so much better under pressure now. You had a lot to do with that."

Dr. Weir saw something in the Major she hadn't seen in a very long time. His face lit up and he was just about glowing. There she went making him feel better, again. She truly was proud of him; the Major could hear the sincerity in her voice. He couldn't recall a time when she actually verbalized that sentiment to him. Sure, he knew when he had done a good job and equally when he had screwed up, but he had never heard her say it that way. It made a difference to actually hear it.

"I did have a lot to do with it, didn't I?" he declared to himself. "Ah, poor Rodney, he doesn't blame himself…does he?" The Major added the last two words tentatively realizing how difficult this might have been for his friend. "I mean, I know he meant well with the parallel bars and all." His uplifted demeanor was quickly turning towards guilt again.

"Well," Elizabeth started, "the team does feel a little responsible but that's only because they care about you."

"Yeah, I know." John had grown accustomed to each of their little quirks and habits, as well. They were all beginning to feel like a comfortable pair of just right, broken in shoes. He had come to depend on them in many ways and his recovery was just one more thing to add to that list.

"They're not going to go away just because of this one little episode. It more than likely won't be your last but hopefully they'll lessen with time and with some help from the team. After all," Elizabeth grinned from ear to ear, "we all get by with a little help from our friends," she teased.

Oh no, John thought, tell me she didn't just go there. "Tell me you didn't just quote the Beatles."

"Why not, I just happen to think that John Lennon was one of the greatest contemporary philosophers of our time."

"No way," John argued.

"Yes _way_," she emphasized.

"Not in a million years."

"But in another galaxy, far, far away…"

"Okay, okay, I give." He put his hands up in mock self-defense knowing that if he didn't stop it there, the argument could go on and on as stubborn as they both were at times.

Elizabeth smirked to herself, self-satisfied. "But seriously, we're all here for you." She reminded him once again as she patted him on his upper arm.

John nodded in acceptance of Elizabeth's assessment and fell into quiet contemplation mulling over his memories one more time. He decided that he would have to apologize to the Lieutenant having nearly bitten his head off, and Rodney…poor Rodney, he's going to have some serious making up to do. Maybe some Athosian wine would do the trick. He'd have to talk to Teyla about that.

Dr. Weir broke into his pondering sensing that there may be some other issues lurking about. "Is there anything else you would like to talk about? I want to give you an opportunity to process. It's very important you do this."

"Not really."

"John…" she asked stretching out his name in warning the way she does when she feels he's keeping something from her.

"I'll be fine."

"Are you hungry?" Elizabeth asked in a rush realizing that he hadn't had lunch and must be starving. "I can send for some food."

"Nah, maybe later," he really wasn't that hungry; probably an after effect of the meds. "There is one thing you could do for me, though."

"If it involves water and a sponge, the answer is no," Dr. Weir chided crossing her arms in front of her but at the same time happy that the Major was feeling comfortable enough to ask her for help.

John chuckled and asked his favor, "Would you read to me some more?" He was sure she wouldn't turn down that request especially since he flashed her with his trademark, pleading expression.

"I'd be delighted to read to you." She couldn't turn down that request especially with that face attached to the request.

Grabbing _War and Peace_ from its resting place, Elizabeth found the spot where she had last left off and back tracked a little since the Major had nodded off the last time she had read to him. "Here we go. We had gotten to the middle of chapter six in part three. I'll start at the beginning of this section."

She read:

…_The Rostovs had received no news of their Nikolai for a long time when one day in the middle of winter the count was handed a letter addressed in his son's handwriting. Anxious and in haste to escape notice, he ran off on tiptoe to his study, shut himself in and began to read. Anna Milhalovna, hearing of the arrival of a letter – she always knew everything that happened in the house – went softly into the room and found the count with the missive in his hand, sobbing and laughing at once. Though her circumstances had improved, Anna Milhalovna was still living at the Rostovs'._

'_My dear friend?' she brought out with a note of melancholy inquiry in her voice prepared to sympathize in any direction._

_The Count sobbed more violently._

_'Our little Nikolai…letter…wa…a…s…wounded, ma chère…wounded…my darling boy…the little countess…promoted to be an officer…thank God…how are we to tell the little countess?'_

_Anna Mihalovna sat down beside him, with her own handkerchief wiped the tears from his eyes and from the page, then having dried her own eyes read the letter, soothed the count and decided that during dinner and before tea she would prepare the countess, and then, after tea, with God's help break the news to her… _(taken from _War and Peace_, Tolstoy: Penguin Books, 1982, pp. 268, translation by R. Edmunds, 1978)

And so the evening went, Dr. Weir reading to the Major and, the Major, stopping her from time to time to comment, as before, on some portion of the story. He was intrigued mostly with the Russian history and the military aspects of the saga and Elizabeth had to admit she was interested in the romantic aspects, something that surprised John. He hadn't taken her for the chick-flick type but there was still more to the oftentimes mysterious woman that he hadn't learned about.

She read all the way up to chapter 13, ending with Napoleon's proclamation to the French soldiers that he himself would be leading the battalion against the Russian army, before Elizabeth finally excused herself declaring that the Major needed to rest and have his dinner.

"Why don't you bring your dinner here and we'll eat together," John suggested enjoying Elizabeth's company.

"I would love to, John, but I have some reports to finish up before tomorrow morning. I've gotten behind and they just can't wait. Can I send someone else, instead? I think Teyla's free," she suggested.

"Nah, I'll be fine."

The Doctor had long gone for the evening as well, leaving the Major in the hands of the very competent nurses and technicians.

"Alright, goodnight, then."

"Goodnight," John retuned giving her a wan smile, "Thanks for reading to me again. Same time tomorrow?" he asked.

"I'll be here," Elizabeth affirmed since she too was enjoying their reading time together. She turned back on her way out giving the Major one more smile before leaving the infirmary. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?" she asked again just to be sure.

"I'll be fine. Thanks again for everything."

Elizabeth observed that the Major seemed to be more relaxed and felt confidant about leaving him alone. Once again they said their final 'goodbyes' for the evening. She had contemplated telling him about how he had affected the lights in the infirmary with his outburst but she suspended that idea since she didn't want to give him too much to have to deal with all at once. She concluded that it would be best to let him know about the incident later when she had more information.

TBC…


	26. Making Progress

**A/N: **Hello, everyone. I have finally gotten around to posting another chapter to this story. I apologize for staying away for so long. No excuses except that life's little complications seemed to get in the way. Many good things going on…some bad. Anyway, I hope you can forgive me and I understand completely if you've given up on waiting or wanting to read any more of my stuff. This is short but I should have another chapter up by the end of next week.

**Chapter 26: Making Progress**

Without Elizabeth there to keep him occupied and help him keep his thoughts at bay, the Major had a lot to ruminate about. It tore him up that his teammates, no—his friends, saw him in such a vulnerable state. He still felt that sense of shame. He knew that he could trust Elizabeth to understand what he was going through but it was even hard to open up to her. He felt comfortable with Teyla but he didn't want her to worry over him and put her through any more than she had already been through.

He wasn't sure how his second in command was taking all of this, and Rodney, now that was going to be tough. The Doc was, of course, the Doc. He understood on a clinical level what was going on with him plus John could count on him not to share anything with the others unless he okay'd it.

He thought about bugging the nurse for water or something at least to have someone to chat with if only for a few minutes. He hadn't recalled feeling so alone before. He was beginning to miss his teammates. They had come to mean a great deal to him and he realized how much they often did together off hours. He would even welcome being part of one of McKay's experiments right now just to have something to take away the restless thoughts swirling around in his brain. Perhaps he could ask Elizabeth for some paperwork to do. Surely, there were some unfinished reports lying around. Now, there was a desperate thought.

After wracking his brains for what seemed to be an eternity, the Major finally decided on reading some more of _War and Peace_. He read and read some more. He read through his dinner that a tech had finally brought up and he practically read through the time the nurse came in to check his vitals for the final time that evening. He read until he finally drifted off to sleep with the book draped across his chest one hand resting neatly along its spine.

* * *

Dr. Weir had made her way back to her office. A small smile was on her lips as she recalled her time with the Major. Even though his last episode had seemed to be one of his worse, she couldn't help but feel that he had bounced back from this one just a little bit faster. 

As she got closer to the glass enclosure that was her office, she noticed a familiar figure in tan and blue sitting in a chair in front of her desk. As she came around the corner, she recognized it as the form of Dr. McKay.

"Rodney? How long have you been here?" she asked mildly surprised as she walked around to sit behind her desk. She assumed he had been waiting for her.

"Oh…about an hour or so," Rodney replied his eyes cast down with a hint of sadness in his voice. Elizabeth knew that something must be terribly wrong if this normally impatient man was willing to wait for her this long.

"What's on your mind?" she inquired in a soft voice. She had an idea but wanted to hear Rodney express it for himself.

"Well…not much really." He was hedging, Elizabeth could tell.

"Is it about what happened this morning?" Elizabeth coaxed.

Rodney did not answer choosing to purse his lips instead in a noncommittal posture.

"Rodney, if it's about this morning, I would like to hear your thoughts. I'm here to help you…all of us, through this."

"He's my friend, Elizabeth. He's my friend and I feel like I've let him down. Not that it would be the first time. I seem to be a constant annoyance to him. Hell, the man grows on you." The words escaped the scientist's mouth in a frustrated rush.

Elizabeth smiled knowingly. "I know what you mean."

"He's been very tolerant with me, covering my ass when I need it the most and here I am freezing up like some moron when he needs me the most."

"Would it make you feel any better if I told you I just came from seeing him and he feels terrible about what happened this morning?"

"No, that actually makes me feel worse."

"Rodney, he knows he's hard on you but it's because he cares about you. He's very concerned about your feelings and how hard he can be on you."

"I still feel like I'm making things worse."

"It would be worse if you weren't there," she countered firmly getting a little irritated with the scientist.

"You really think so?" he asked in a hopeful voice finally looking up to make real eye contact with Elizabeth

"Rodney, I know so," she softened. "I don't think the Major himself knows how much help you and the rest of the team have been. I'm sure your connecting on some level. I know for a fact that he is aware of hurting you and he wants to make it up to you."

Rodney looked sharply at Elizabeth upon hearing these words. He was deep in thought for a few seconds biting his lower lip. Elizabeth knew that deep down in that smug, scientific persona was a very sensitive man and that it took a lot for him to come to her and admit these feelings to her.

"He's going to need you…all of us…to be there for him in the morning. Can I count on you to join us?"

Rodney looked at her with a spacey look in his eyes merely shaking his head "yes." He started to rise out of his chair to leave but Dr. Weir stopped him.

"One more thing, Rodney, did you find out more about the power surge in the infirmary?"

"Oh, yes, of course." He had forgotten all about his analysis but quickly went into expert mode. "I believe the city having not encountered this type of behavior from the Major before, reacted accordingly. In other words, it has become accustomed to John in the sense that it knows the difference between a mood and a specific, expressed thought. It was confused by his sudden outburst since it had not sensed John in this state before so in a sense it reacted to his mood rather than to his command."

"Should we be concerned with further danger?"

"I don't believe so. If it happens again, the city should adjust accordingly and be able to distinguish between his feelings and his thoughts."

"Good to know. I guess the city has taught us another valuable lesson and given us some insight on the Major's situation. Wouldn't you say?"

Rodney brightened as realization crept across his face and answered Dr. Weir with a shy, crooked smile. "I guess it has."

Dr. Weir smiled after Dr. McKay as he left her office and noticed he had more of a spring in his step. She was feeling rather optimistic herself as she delved into her reports. She wondered how the rest of the team was faring and she assumed all was well with Teyla and Ford or she would have heard from them by now. Anxious to get her reports done and get to bed, she quickly went through her paperwork. Tomorrow was sure to be another taxing day and she wanted to be sure to get her rest.

TBC…Ch. 27 coming soon!

A/N: How do you like it so far? I admit I'm having a little trouble getting this finished. Any ideas…thoughts?


	27. War and Peace of Mind

**_A/N:_ Okay everyone. Here comes a different sort of chapter. This is a story within a story and it's long so bear with me. I did not intend to rewrite _War and Peace_ but I hope I convey what I'm trying to do. I'm not sure how familiar with the book or movie you should be but I think I wrote this in a way that readers can understand it without having read the novel. I certainly haven't read it all the way through. Ok…I cheated and saw the movie. Anyway, before I give away too much, on to Chapter 27. E-mail me or write a review if you have any questions. **

**Thanks soooo much to all of my reviewers and your suggestions. This should help with my writers block and get me motivated again. I promise to post more often.**

**_Disclaimer:_ I don't own any of the characters in _Stargate Atlantis_ OR War _and Peace_. I'm just borrowing them for a short time to satisfy some sick inner world.**

**Chapter 27: War and Peace of Mind**

_Prince Nikolai Rostov and his good friend Vasska Denisov were returning to their unit in the Russian army after a long period of leave that they had spent with Nikolai's family the Rostov's. The two Lieutenants had not been back to their camp long when they had heard rumors of the French army and their most recent undertakings. They heard from the other soldiers that Napoleon was making plans to descend on Moscow. 'What gall,' Nikolai thought to himself. The French army had been within fifty miles of Moscow according to the scouts. He must have advanced his army in the time that he and Denisov had been on leave. He thought surely the severe Russian winter would have delayed the French army's progress._

_He was on his way to see General Kutuzov to get down to the bottom of this. He shuddered at the thought of what would happen to the Czar and the Royal families. He did not want to let his mind wander to what fate would befall his younger siblings. He could only imagine what awful atrocities would be doled out to his sweet, dear, little sister, Natalia if she fell into the hands of a French despot. He feared for his beloved Sonya, as well, even though his affection for her had recently waned._

_The snow crunched beneath his boots as he approached the General's tent. He called out to the commander and was approached by a guard. "I wish to see the General."_

_"What business do you have with him?" the guard inquired._

_"I wish to have an audience with him regarding the escorting of the Royal families out of Moscow."_

"_One moment," the guard snapped curtly as he disappeared into the tent reappearing a few seconds later to show Prince Nikolai in._

_"Commander Kutuzov, sir, it is I, Lt. Rostov. I wish to have a word."_

_There was no response for a few seconds as the General was looking over the young man. "Is that young Nikolai Rostov?" Kutuzov inquired._

_"Yes sir."_

_"Of course, the son of Count Ilya Rostov. What can I do for you?"_

_Prince Nicolas launched into his explanation. "Sir, I am hearing rumors that Napoleon has plans to take Moscow."_

_"They are not rumors," the commander growled in confirmation._

_"Sir, my family, the Rostovs…" the young Lieutenant hesitated._

_"Yes, what about them?" the General grunted impatiently._

_"Well sir, they and the other Royal families. They will surely be taken."_

_"The Rostovs?" the General mused, rubbing his chin trying to remember the significance of that name. "Yes, of course, the Rostovs," he finally acknowledged recalling them clearly, now. He had forgotten how many young royals were under his command. "What do you propose, Lieutenant?" he asked knowing full well what the young man was about to suggest._

_"Sir, I would like to take a unit to escort the families to safety."_

_There was a pause before the General spoke again. "No doubt, you are motivated to save your own family. However, you are very brave non-the-less. Napoleon intends to take the city that much is for certain. Take your unit and one other with you, not the best for I will need them against the French. Listen carefully. You will head out East towards the old monastery. The families will be safe there. Once halfway there, send the other unit back for a surprise assault. Do you understand?" the general asked boring his gaze into the young man's eyes._

_"Yes, sir, completely," the Lieutenant answered confidently._

_"And, Lieutenant, no heroics, I will need your unit back in one piece. I'm aware of your record and you allow your heart to rule your head. I will have none of that."_

_"Understood, sir."_

_"God speed, Lieutenant."_

_"Yes, Sir," he answered one final time with a sharp nod and a salute to his superior as he exited the tent._

_Nikolai's head was swirling with thoughts and plans. He was well aware of the atrocities that Napoleon was capable of. He had inflicted butcherous acts on the likes of Marie Antoinette and her husband King Louis. He was also familiar with how he treated his own men. It made Commander Kuduzov seem like a kindly old grandfather._

_Lt. Denisov had been patiently waiting for his friend a few paces from the General's tent. "What did he say?" he asked in a rush falling in step with Nikolai, anxious to know what the old Commander had decided._

_Nikolai explained the situation and his orders to his friend._

_"When do we leave," Denisov asked._

_"As soon as we have assembled our units."_

_Denisov stopped in his tracks understanding Nikolait's drift, and saluted, "I'll get to it straight away, sir."_

_Nikolai smiled after his eager friend's zeal. "We will meet on the North edge of the camp. Make sure to travel with light ordinances for we will have need to travel quickly."_

_The two men departed to attend to their tasks. A short time later, the two units were assembled and Nikolai briefed the two units on their mission. Upon hearing their orders, the men became excited and enthused with the thought of having the honor of escorting the Royal families. That was the highest honor that could be bestowed upon them._

_When all was in order, they began the march towards Moscow with the two Lieutenants, Nikolai and Denisov, on horseback in the lead. They made it to the edge of the city by nightfall and set up camp._

_The men gathered around the campfire and went over final plans while eating a hearty dinner. Nikolai would ride ahead of the rest and alert the Czar's guards first instructing them to spread the word to the other families. Then he would proceed to alert his own family. The units would have arrived by that time to assist them._

_

* * *

_

The night passed without incident and Nikolai was awake an hour before the rest of the men. He was ready to ride by the time the others had arisen. The ride into Moscow was uneventful and he was warmly greeted by the royal guards when he arrived at the Czar's palace. He explained the situation and the guards hastened to prepare the royal families for evacuation.

_Nickolai quickly made his way to his childhood home where he was greeted by the servants who were already preparing the family breakfast._

_His sister Natalia was the first to be aware of his presence flinging her arms around his neck. "Dearest brother, you just left here. What brings you back so soon? Something is wrong, isn't it? You would not be here if it were not a grave situation."_

_The Lieutenant didn't waste any time. "Run and get our brother and cousin. I will fetch Mama and Papa. Pack only those things you need for a few days."_

_She bolted into action sensing that this was not the time for questions._

_Nikolai ran up the stairs to his parent's room taking two stairs at a time. He rapped hard on the door. "Mama…Papa…you must answer."_

_The door was opened a few moments by the face of his terrified father. Nikolai was relieved to see that they were already dressed._

_"Quickly, we must depart. It is Napoleon, he is not far from the city."_

_His father shook his head knowingly, a look of shock on his face. He knew that this day would eventually come but he never imagined that his son would be the one to tell him._

_Once the entire household was assembled and packed, they proceeded to pile into the sleds. Count Rostov paused to get his son's attention by pulling on his sleeve. "Nikolai, my brave son, you must alert the Bolkonsky's," his eyes bore into his son's pleadingly._

_"Of course, Father."_

_

* * *

Prince Bolkonsky was a good friend of the Counts that lived a few doors down. Prince Nikolai diligently made his way to their household. He was met at the door by their eldest daughter, Maria. Not expecting her to answer, the young prince was slightly taken aback by her as she was by him. He really was expecting a servant. There were a few fleeting seconds of awkward silence between them before Nikolai found his voice. _

"_Ah, Princess Maria…Madame, I am here to alert your family. Napoleon descends on Moscow." As he spoke these horrific words, he noticed how lovely she looked this morning. He noticed her clear, blue eyes. How come he had never noticed them before? Had he been gone that long that she had sprouted into a lovely young woman in his absence? He had a sudden urge to protect her.Maria's__lovely eyes narrowed in sudden comprehension as the words the Prince had just spoken hit her._

"_She yanked at the sleeve of his waistcoat. "Come in," she commanded._

_He had removed his hat and was now standing in the middle of the Bolkonsky foyer, a foyer he had stood in many times before and was finding himself feeling rather sheepish around the Princess._

_Her voice echoed throughout the house as she delegated commands and orders to the staff and her younger siblings. At the bottom of the home's grand staircase, she yelled, "Mama, Papa. You must come down this instant."_

_Nikolai had never seen this side of Maria and was quite impressed with her authoritative stance. Her voice was not frightened in the least bit and did not quaver with fear. It was firm and he watched in amazement as the household ran like a well-oiled machine under her command. If it weren't for her being a woman, she might have made a good officer in the army._

_Princess Maria's parents arrived at the foot of the stairs expecting the worst since it was not often that their daughter called for them in such haste. Nikolai greeted them with a salute and a sharp "Sir."_

"_What is it, Nikolai? What fate has befallen us?"_

"_It is Napoleon. He is at the edge of the city. We must evacuate."_

_If his wife was upset, she did not show it and calmly nodded at her husband as she ascended the stairs to gather a few possessions._

_Prince Bolkonsky turned to the Princess. "Is all in order, Daughter?"_

"_Yes father. All the children and servants are at the ready."_

"_Very good," he affirmed as he turned to thank Nikolai before following up the stairs after his wife._

_The young Prince found himself alone in Maria's presence once more, the awkwardness returning in full force. It took a while for him to find his voice again. "We are rendezvousing at the edge of the city by the bridge. We will be making our way to the old monastery."_

"_I know the bridge you speak of. We will meet you there," Maria replied. She leaned in close and gave the Prince a quick kiss to his cheek in thanks. "Be careful, Nikolai."_

_Nikolai blushed, something he had not done in quite a long time and turned to leave Maria's grand home. His made sure to exit quickly before she could see the heat building in his face._

_When Czar Alexander and the rest of the families were at the rendezvous point and had been briefed on the evacuation plan, the party headed out to the old monastery. Nikolai and Denisov were in the lead with the rest of the units flanking the families with some soldiers taking up the rear._

_It would take the most part of the day to reach their destination. Suddenly, Prince Nikolai was struck with an idea._

_"Denisov, I am going to take some men and go back to Moscow. I believe we are far enough away from the city for one unit to escort the families the rest of the way."_

_"But, Sir, did the General not say that I would return with a unit once we were half-way there."_

_"Well, yes, there is that, however, I think you are capable of handling this on your own. I will return to Moscow with my unit," he said not without some smugness in his tone._

_"Very well, Sir, but let it be known that I did not agree with your decision" Denisov protested with a wry smile knowing how impulsive his friend could be._

_"Don't worry, Lieutenant, I don't intend to get you in any trouble." Denisov nodded his head in agreement but the look on his face was of trepidation._

_The two friends chose a wooded area to stop the caravan, regrouped their units, and made to go their separate ways. Nikolai didn't notice that there was a pair of hawkish eyes watching his every move. As he got closer to the owner or those eyes, he heard his name being called out. He moved towards its source only to meet up with the beautiful crystal blue eyes of Maria Bolkonsky once more. He moved his steed in close to her sled. She reached out to touch his sleeve._

_"You are going back to Moscow, aren't you?" The hawkish eyes were now softened by concern and deep worry._

_"Yes, Maria. It is my duty. I must protect the city."_

_"I understand," she stated somewhat defeated._

_"I will return to escort you back as soon as we drive the French army out," the young man brightened trying to cheer Maria up._

_Maria's face brightened with an idea. "I will come with you," she demanded._

_The Lieutenant was shocked. "Absolutely not!" he exclaimed that feeling of protection coming over him. "The front is no place for a woman."_

_"Why not?" she pouted. "Are there not nurses in the infirmary? They are women are they not?"_

_"Yes, they are, however, let me remind you that they are posted away from any danger and have been trained for their detail."_

_"I will not get in the way, I promise," She tried again.  
_

_"My dear," he continued as tenderly as possible so as not to hurt her feelings, "you traveling with us is enough for you to be in the way. We would have to keep a constant eye on you and I cannot have my men distracted in that way."_

_"I can shoot a gun. Papa taught me," she tried once more._

_At this the young Lieutenant had to laugh at her zeal._

_"You make fun of me, sir," Maria pouted which brought on more chuckling from Nikolai._

_"You are a delight my dear Maria. If you were a man, I would be honored to have you by my side however, being a lady, I would be more honored to be by your side when I return to fetch you and the families."_

_With this, Maria had to join in the laughter along with her younger siblings who had been hanging on every word of Maria's and Nikolai's conversation._

_"Please be careful my dear Nikolai. I will be waiting for you. You had better keep your promise and save our beautiful Moscow."_

_"I will be back before you know it so you had better be ready." With that he spurred his horse and waved one last goodbye to Maria and her nosy siblings, a glow on his cheeks. Suddenly, the thought struck him that he would kill any filthy Frenchman who tried to lay a hand on her. He was not prone to these ideas and had never entertained the idea of killing outside of his duty during war. There was only one explanation for this and that was he was falling for this delightful, beautiful woman._

_

* * *

Nikolai paused to say a brief goodbye to his own family after his encounter with Maria before going back to Moscow. The way back was much quicker for Nikolai and his men not being slowed down by a caravan of sleds. Once at the bridge where they had first rendezvoused, they stopped for final instructions and listened for the sounds of the battle ahead. Surely, the men would be tiring on either side and his fresh unit would be a welcome relief. They decided to come in to the battle from the Eastern side so as to surprise the French. _

_As they approached the battlefield, they were relieved to find that the French had not advanced as far as they had feared and that they were actually starting to be pushed back. One finalassault from his unit should do the trick. His men rushed cheering headlong into the melee. Prince Nikolai made his way to the general pressing and hacking his way through French soldiers making the way clear for his men and doling out orders to them all at the same time._

_When General Kuduzov spotted the young Lieutenant making his way towards him, he made a face even more sour than the one he already had on. Nikolai didn't think it possible for him to deepen his scowl. He was in for it for sure he thought._

_"Lieutenant," a gravely voice called out to him. "I believe I told you to send back the better unit and escort the families the rest of the way yourself?" he scolded._

"_Well, sir, you did say to bring back the best unit. That would be my unit, sir. It was only fitting that their commanding officer return with them."_

_"Hrrrmmph." the General growled. "We shall continue this later. For now, I need for you to assist me. I have Napoleon in my sights and I intend to wound him if I can. That should demoralize his murderers."_

_The General spurred his mount and Nikolai was right on his heels. Their steeds were gallant horses not easily frightened by the sounds of the cannon fire. Napoleon was known topersonally participate in thebattles instead of giving orders from the sidelines. If they could cut the head of the snake off, the rest of the body would fail._

_The snow was drifting lightly as they made their way to the front line. They could make the outline of Napoleon's chapeau in the distance, it was so distinguishable. The Russian army was doing an excellent job of forcing back the French._

_"There he is, the murderer and thief," General Kudunov spat out in disgust._

_"I see him," the young Lieutenant confirmed._

_"I'm going to take a shot," the General declared. "If I miss, I will need you to back me up before he slithers away. My eyesight is not what it used to be."_

_Nikolai covered the General with the help of a few men who caught on to what they were about to do. The General aimed with his musket and when he was sure he had the little weasel in his sights, let off a shot. As soon as the General had fired, Nikolai, set his own sights and aimed for the French General._

_They watched intently as Napoleon, swung his head in the direction of the gunshot and realized in an instant that it was a well directed aim intended for him and started to turn his mount to move behind the safety of his men. He didn't realize a second assassination attempt would be coming his way thinking he had time before the enemy reloaded._

_Nikolai fired his rifle as soon as he saw that the French leader was left unscathed. He saw the short man start to turn his horse around and let off his round. The snow had started to pick up but he was sure that his aim was true for he saw the French leader flinch and looked as if he was losing control of his steed._

_"I'm sure that I hit him, sir." He turned and insisted to the General._

_"Yes, my boy, I believe you might have at least wounded him in the shoulder." We shall find out from the scouts for sure later tonight. It seemed to do the trick. Thanks to your men and threatening Napoleon's person, the French are starting to retreat. No doubt, the weather is in our favor, as well. This snow storm should make it difficult for them and not knowing this territory as well as we do."_

_He clapped the young man on the back. "Well done young man. Moscow is saved. We will have much to celebrate tonight but I must also think on your punishment for disobeying orders."_

_Just as the General was finishing his sentence, a shot rang out. The General watched in horror as his young officer stiffened wide-eyed in his horse. The General caught the Lieutenant as he started to slide off of his horse, the animal was intuitively holding steady. He saw that blood was gushing from the young Lieutenant's arm. Fortunately, it didn't look too bad but probably hurt worse than the wound was fatal._

"_Medic, I need a medic over here, quickly," he shouted. No doubt that was a retaliatory shot from a French soldier not too happy that his leader had been targeted. This was confirmation to the General the Napoleon had indeed been wounded._

_Two medics arrived within a few seconds and they helped the General lower the young man onto a stretcher. Nikolai groaned in pain as they settled him in and made for the infirmary._

"_Keep me posted on his condition." The General shouted after them. It was time for him to regroup his men and end this battle once and for all._

_A kindly young Doctor with blood up to his elbows met the men with the stretcher and its contents._

_"What do we have here, lads?" he asked as they deposited the Lieutenant._

"_Treat this one well, Doctor. From what we understand, he wounded Napoleon," one of the medics explained._

"_Is that so? Well let's get the hero inside and treat that wound. He'll be wanting to drink some vodka later this evening," the Doctor said in his distinctive accent._

_The Doctor made quick work of repairing the young man's arm and hoped he would be the last of the wounded for that evening. He left him in the hands of the nurses and to get some well-deserved sleep. He could hear the shouts of the soldiers outside declaring that 'Moscow was saved.' The General did indeed come in later with a bottle of vodka and let the doctors, nurses, and medics drink a toast to the wounded especially thanking Nikolai for making the fatal shot._

_The General sat on a small stool next to Nikolai's cot. "Now for your punishment," he declared._

_"Yes, sir." Nikolai would take his punishment with dignity and honor._

_"You are to go and retrieve the families in two day time once we are sure the French have turned tail and escort them back to the city."_

_"Yes, sir," Nikolai started to reply with enthusiasm and remembered that this was a punishment subduing his tone. "I mean, yes sir, as soon as you give the word," he stated more somberly. The thought of seeing Maria and keeping his promise to her was a punishment he would gladly fulfill._

_"Very good," the General said with a small smile, "Keep this up and you might make a good soldier some day."_

_The General stood but before leaving offered Nikolai one more comment, "You saved the city."_

_"Yes sir, I saved the city." The young man replied enthusiastically, "I saved the city…" he repeated to himself drifting off into a peaceful and satisfying slumber. _

**A/N: Well there you have it. If you didn't quite get it, things will be explained in the upcoming chapter at least, that's the plan.**


End file.
